Refuge
by Colemet Milinia
Summary: After Number Six escapes the Mogadorian prison after losing everything, including her Cepan, she's on the run again, young and afraid. She's alone, she has to stay hidden. But how long can she truly hide? Can she stay under the radar and take care of herself? Or will an unsuspected ally prove to keep her safe?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, wonderful readers! :) Thank you for opening up my story, and hopefully reading! **

**This is my second Lorien Legacies FanFiction, and I really hope you enjoy it! It revolves around Six in her past. I see Six as a character that has so much potential for back stories and character development, so I hope to do her some justice!**

**I would like to dedicate this story to ****_Insert a Catchy Penname Here _****and ****_TomFieldings_****, who share in my love for the series and are wonderful supporters of my writing. Catchy also helped me develop many of the ideas and scenes that you'll find in the story, so I credit her and thank her for that. :)**

**I hope you enjoy the story! Thanks for reading! :)**

...

I escaped. I finally escaped.

After months and months in that forsaken, torturous Mog prison, I escaped.

But not before they took Katarina away from me. And not before I took that Mog's life in return.

But now, my adrenaline is pumping as I distance myself further and further from the base. I don't know which direction I'm going, nor do I care. As long as I put feet, yards, miles between me and that Hell, I don't care where I'm going. I'll figure that out later.

I'm alone. I've always felt alone, but now I'm more alone than ever. Those wretched Mogs took the only thing I ever had, the only thing I ever loved; they stole my everything.

They killed my Katarina.

But while the pain is still there, the wounds are still open, her death was not in vain. I proved to myself that I can do this, that I'm capable of winning this war, somehow, some way. I killed Katarina's executioner. And I will kill so many more than that. I'm capable. More capable than I ever was before.

But I'm still alone.

But I won't be forever. There are others still out there, and I need to find them. I glance down at my blurred ankle as I continue run; three scars. That means six of us are still out there. Me, and five others. I will find them. Somehow, I will.

I keep running. Night is falling, and I'm far enough away now that I have materialized; I'm overjoyed that I've harnessed my invisibility Legacy, which I know will prove to be useful in my temporary fight for lone survival.

The night air is cool as it rushes past my skin, and the air is slightly humid, but it feels better that way. My raven black hair flies behind me, and I can't help but enjoy this bitter freedom, even for a second. I am free.

But I'm still alone.

This loneliness is new, foreign, and painful. I don't truly exist in this world, and without Katarina, there's no one to exist with, no one to hide with, no one to care about me.

If no one in the world cares about you, do you even exist at all?

But the others are out there. They must care about me.

But until then, I am alone.

But I am alive. I was on the brink of death so many times, between capture and endless torture, but I'm still alive. They tried every way they could to kill me; stabbing, gunshot, burning, poison, drowning, suffocation, lethal injection...everything. But the blessing of the charm protected me, and their soldiers fell before me and I grinned in contempt as they did.

I can kill. I can grin as I watch them die. I have a bloodlust, and I'm glad.

I'm alone, but I'm alive. And maybe that's all I need to survive for now.

But how long can you survive if you don't truly exist at all?

...

**This was only the prologue, but I hope you enjoyed it. :) Thanks for reading! **


	2. Chapter 2

After what seems like forever, I stop running and start walking instead, looking avidly for a place to go. Without the adrenaline and distraction of the intense run, the hollow feeling of loneliness and missing Katarina comes back, a small sadness that tugs at you no matter what. I sigh, out of breath anyway. It still hurts.

I've never truly had to fend for myself, I've always had my Kat. I have to figure it out now, though. I have to survive. I will make her proud.

As I walk along the side of the double-lined road, I come to what appears to be a bus stop. A bus is a perfect way to gain distance! The stop looks old and run down, nearly abandoned. It may not even be in use anymore, I fear. In hopes that it is, though, I sit down on the bench that's covered in cob webs and dust and I wait.

I try to regain my breath, my sense, and feeling in my legs as I sit there and wait. I'm trembling, but I'm not sure what from. Fear? Sadness? Adrenaline? I don't know.

I look down at myself; I'm a pitiful-looking wreck. I'm wearing the same clothes that I wore months ago when I got captured; my jeans have holes and my t-shirt is worn and tearing at the seams. My Converse shoes are still mostly intact, but they're aching my feet from the long run. My hair is tangled, my hygiene is neglected, and I mostly likely don't smell very good.

But I have to take care of myself now. I have to fix this.

After what could potentially be a few minutes or an eternity, a big bus rolls up in front of me and makes a screeching sound as it stops that makes me flinch. Nevertheless, I stand up, still shaking, as the door opens.

The driver, and old man with white hair and glasses, looks at me with a dumbfound expression. "What's a kid like you doing at a bus stop this time of night?" he asks in a strange accent that I can't quite place.

"What time is it?" I ask him, considering I really don't know.

"Almost midnight," he answers gruffly. "Too late for a little girl like you to be out on her own." I just shrug and climb up the steps onto the bus, but he gives me a look.

I'm about to take a seat when the driver stops me. "Eh," he says. He points to the little box with a slit on the top; you need to pay to ride this bus.

I sigh and check my pockets, but I don't find anything useful. When I look back up at the old driver, he's looking me up and down, as if he's trying to figure out where I came from.

"You run away from home or somethin'?" he asks I guess deciding that must be why I look so helpless.

Not seeing what else to do, I nod. "Yeah...something like that," I answer.

He points to the seats and shuts the door behind me. "Get on."

I don't argue and quietly nod my thanks. I turn and walk down the aisle of seats as the bus lurches to a start again. There's only two other people on this bus; a sorry looking young woman in a violet dress and a young man in a suit with a crooked tie who looks depressed. Not exactly a joyful scene, the three of us.

I walk back and take a seat in the middle of the bus, distancing myself from both of the other passengers. I sit down next to the window and look out into the night and scenery as it passes by rapidly with the movement of the bus. I sigh.

I now realize, sitting down and calming down alike, how tired I am, and how hungry and thirsty I am, and how truly sad and lonely I am. I need resources, I need to survive.

But for now, I need to sleep Sleep...

But sleep comes with a strangled sadness, and as I rest my head against the window and begin to nod off, a tears escapes my eye and a sob becomes lodged in my throat.

Sleep...

...

"Wake up, kid."

I slowly comply to the voice as it fills my ears, bringing me back to consciousness. "Wha...?" I look up as I open my eyes.

The bus driver is standing over me, his face lit by the dim sunlight that's beginning to come over the horizon in the distance. "You fell asleep," he says to me.

I nod and try to shake myself awake quickly; I need to learn how to be alert, on edge, and defensive. "Where are we?" I ask.

"Mayor, Virginia. About an hour south of the Northern border," he tells me. Virginia. That means I ran south. "It's about six a.m. Last stop."

"Right..." I say, slowly collecting myself, brushing dirt off my pants, as if it will do any good. I stand up out of my seat; I'm the last one on the bus. "Thank you."

"No problem." He makes way for me in the aisle and I go back towards the front of the bus. He follows behind and presses the button to open the door. "Kid?" he says as I exit the bus.

I look back at him. "Yeah?"

He nods once. "Be careful."

I stare at him for a second. He probably only pities me, or maybe he's really worried. But he did let me sleep, let me ride for free, acknowledged that something was wrong. Either way, I just nod. "I will."

With one last nod, he shuts the door, turns off the screeching parking break, and drives away from the bus stop. I watch it go until it's out of sight.

And then I turn to face Mayor, Virginia.

...

Food. Water. That's what I need first. Basic needs for survival.

I walk into the town of Mayor, Virginia, alone and trying to blend in. It's a decent sized town, with shops and houses and restaurants lining the streets. It's set up like a grid deeper in, similar to a city. It's not as easy to blend in; most of the people are rather quaint, and normal looking, but they're few in numbers considering the early hour. A girl with matted black hair and dirty clothes all by herself would scream abnormal here.

Food is what I need desperately right now; I'm nauseous from the lack of it and I'm probably dehydrated. I pinch my skin like Katarina taught me in order to tell if you're dehydrated or not; I am. My breathing and heart are especially fast too, but I'm not sure if that's from lack of nourishment or the left over adrenaline and fear.

I eventually make my plan and duck into a twenty four hour diner, to which the door is wide open, letting in the fresh morning air. I walk inside and sit down at the bar, which doesn't actually matter considering they're serving breakfast. I pick up a menu and search for what looks good, eager for the first real food I've had in months.

Eventually, a waitress comes up from behind the bar. She's wearing a pink, diner-style dress with plain white shoes. She has curly read hair that goes to her shoulders, bright red lips, and naturally flirtatious green eyes. "Hi, sweetheart," she says in something of a southern draw, not acknowledging that I'm alone. "What can I get for you?"

"A tall glass of water," I tell her instantly. "And some orange juice too."

"Coming right up." She goes over to get glasses and then fills them to the brim for me. She sets them down in front of me, and I grab them up instantly, gulping the water down in no time.

She chuckles. "Thirsty, huh?" she asks. I nod. She has no idea...

I start drinking the orange juice, and the waitress asks. "Anything on the menu look good?"

I nod and point. "The tall stack of French toast," I tell her plainly.

She chuckles again. "Quite the thirst and the appetite," she says. "Coming right up." She places the order and comes back as I drink my juice.

"Now, what bruings you here?" she asks as she begins wiping down the counter. "You're obviously not from here."

I can't say I disagree. My accent and lack of quaint atmosphere dictate against that. I just shrug.

"Run away from home?" she asks.

Everyone keeps asking me that," I say tiredly. "Yeah, something like that." I tell her the same thing I told the bus driver.

She just nods. After a few minutes, she goes to the back of the restaurant and comes back out. "Here," she says gently. She hands me a wet rag. "Clean yourself up a bit. You might feel a little better."

"Thanks," I say. I wipe off my hands, neck, and face and then put the rag gently on the counter. She takes it away and then brings me something else, a mug; coffee.

"Do you like coffee?" she asks. "It might help you wake up a bit...you seem awfully tired. It's on the house."

I nod my thanks and take it. She's right, I am very tired, and I do like coffee. Looking at it, tasting it, and smelling it, though, is all a painful reminder of my Katarina. She loved coffee, and she'd make it for us every morning. Sometimes we couldn't resist and we'd drink it at night, too, and then we'd never be able to sleep, so we stayed up and watch action movies. I miss it all, every feeling, every minute...I miss her...

I try to swallow my sadness, but I see the waitress is looking at me with a concerned expression. "You okay, sweet pea?" I just nod and sip my coffee. The coffee is bitter, but the memories are bitter sweet.

After a few minutes of silence, silence except my stomach rumbling and a distinctly nauseous, malnourished feeling, my French toast final arrives. My eyes bulge at it. They're steaming from warmth, and they smell heavily of cinnamon. Mmm... I dump syrup on top and begin to eat savagely. Real food...oh my gosh, real food...

The waitress chuckles as she watches me. "Can I assume it's good?" she asks. I smile just a bit, with a mouthful of French toast, for the first time in a very long time, and I nod. I keep eating it, quickly, though I savor it at the same time. It's so good...

I finish soon, and I feel happily full. Gosh it was so good... The waitress smiles and takes my plate and my empty glasses. "All done?" she asks. I nod. "Then I'll get you the check," she says.

"Uh," I interrupt before she walks away. "I just need to go to the bathroom first," I tell her.

She smiles. "That's fine, baby girl. Take your time." With that, she goes and takes my dirty dishes with her.

I slide off the stool and shuffle to the bathroom. I do, in fact, use it, and am grateful to come out of the stall and realize no one is in here either. I wash up a bit in the sink as quickly as I can and, when I'm very sure I'm alone, turn myself invisible. With that, I slip out of the bathroom and quickly and carefully, weave my way through the restaurant. It's getting busier now, as it's nearly seven o'clock, and the early morning rush is beginning. It makes my job harder as far as making my way through the place, but it does cause more of a distraction as well.

Completely unnoticed, I slip out of the restaurant leaving no trace behind besides my unpaid bill.

I run away. I don't look back and I don't think twice. And I never show my face in there again.

...

Once I make my way on the other side of town, away from the restaurant while still staying close to civilization, I materialize hidden in an alley.

I did it. I survived, I got food and water, and I did it on my own. I'm not proud of stealing or skipping out, but my survival and well being are above the grounds of morality when the fate of my planet and theirs counts on it. I can stand some guilt.

I can't help but grin at what I accomplished. I proved to myself again that I can survive. I know that will probably be my first and last meal for a while until I can come up with a more solid survival situation, but I know that if I can do it once, I can do it again.

I leave the alley and walk to a nearby park, which overlooks a nice lake. It's still too early for most people to be out and about, so I'm alone save a person walking their dog here or there. I sit near the bank of the lake and watch the sun rise over the water, and I try to plan my next move.

Money is a huge problem. You can't do anything on this planet without money. It seems silly that their lives are run by pieces of paper that determine your worth, but if I'm going to blend in and survive among them, then that paper has to determine my worth as well.

I have no money, but we had endless amounts of it when I was with Katarina. I check my pockets again, even though I know that it's useless and that there's nothing in them from the bus.

I check my right pocket; nothing. I check my left pocket; there's...something inside. I quickly dig in it and pull out a piece of paper. It's...money. It's a fifty dollar bill! Where did this come from? I didn't steal it, I didn't have it before... How do I have it now? I think hard...and then it dawns on me.

The bus driver.

The bus driver gave me money. When I was asleep, he must have put it in my pocket without my knowledge. He knew I needed help, he really did worry for me, pitied me. He...cared.

I wish I could thank him, but it's too late.

But now I have money. And with this money, I know exactly what my next move is.

I know what my next move is. I can survive.

But even though I didn't feel as though I was for a few short moments, I'm still alone.

I'm on my own.

...

**This chapter is somewhat slow, but every great story needs a build-up and some type of introduction. If you didn't like this, I promise that better chapters are to come. Don't lose hope yet!**

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I just wanted to take opportunity to thank everybody who has reviewed my story! The feedback and kind words are encouraging, so thank you so much! **

**Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy! :)**

...

I spend the rest of the day in Mayor, Virginia to properly plan out my next move. I'll have to have somewhere to sleep, too, since I don't have to generosity of a nice bus driver on my side this time.

Train. That's my next move. I'm going to use that money to buy a train ticket and go even further south so the Mogs can't find me; they're probably hunting for me this very minute, but I have to stay away. I have nothing that they can take from me accept my life, which they can't take from me now anyway, but it won't be like that forever. I have to hide, I have to stay away.

I have to stay away from the humans too. I've been lucky enough to come into contact with two kind ones, but I know that will be short-lived as well. Humans are such selfish, fearful creatures. I can't trust them, not any of them. I have to blend in, but I can't trust them. Their help will only hurt me, I can't take it. The bus driver's gesture was indirect generosity, but I can't rely on that. The humans won't help me. They're all the same. Selfish, fearful, spineless...

I spend most of my day in Mayor sleeping on a park bench. It's probably safer to travel at night. Traveling during the day and night has its advantages and disadvantages alike. If I travel during the day, I stick out so much more, alone and rugged-looking, but I also have more of an opportunity to blend in. At night, there's not nearly as many people watching, but I'm also the real lone wolf that's really out of place; that might get me in trouble. I never had to worry about things like this with Katarina, as I was always well dressed, well fed, and we looked like a family. But survival forces you to figure things out yourself.

When I do wake up on the park bench, it's to violent yelling above me.

"Wake up, you worthless kid! You can't just sleep on a public park bench like that!" I look bleary eyed up to the man that's shouting at me; he's tall and lanky with brown hair and a mustache in a blue jumpsuit; he must be the groundskeeper.

I slowly sit up and rub my eyes. "Sorry..." I say, attitude underlying my sleep-veiled voice.

"Yeah, you oughta be!" He waves me off the bench and I get to my feet. "Now get outta here before I call the cops!"

I brush off my pants and glare at him. "Whatever," I say. "I don't care." And with that, I shove him and start away.

Because of my enhanced strength, he falls backwards and I walk away, but then he starts yelling. "Hey! Someone get the cops, this girl is crazy!"

I hear voices, some commotion, and look back. A police officer is responding to his cry, one that was obviously nearby, and starts running towards me. Oh no... I start running away, hearing yells of, "Get her! She's crazy!" from the disgruntled groundskeeper.

I run and run faster; I know I can outrun the policeman, but I have to be very careful about how I do it; I need to think on my feet. Soon, we're in the heart of town again, and the grid pattern is easy to weave through for evasion. I dodge cars and stay on sidewalks, and my adrenaline is pumping again. Car horns beep and the police officer is yelling at me to stop running. Need to get away, need to get away...

As I run and look down at my feet, I notice that some of the sidewalk is cracked. As I run past it, I subtly use my telekinesis to pull some of the pavement up, enough to create a bit of a blockage. Just as I anticipated, the police trips over it and stumbles with a scream of rage.

That's just enough time for me to veer right to the next block and swing my way into an alley, where I instantly hide in the shadows and turn invisible. I can still hear the loud yelling and curses from the police officer the next block over, but I stay statue still in the alleyway. After a few minutes, the police officer runs by the alley, slowly and limping with an obvious stubbed toe, and he has a look of utter confusion plastered on his face. Serves him right for chasing a young girl.

I grin to myself again. I thought on my feet.

And I survived.

...

After waiting a few more minutes until the coast was clear, I proceeded out of the alley, still invisible and being extremely careful about it, and walked to the other side of town, where they probably aren't looking for me. I slipped into another alley to materialize, where I'm waiting now.

I decide that if I'm going to buy a train ticket and go south, I'm going to need to look more decent than I do now. With that, I proceed to walk carefully into a department store. When I'm walked in, I'm instantly hit with an intense smell of all things clean and new, a scent that I haven't smelled in a long time. I'm not used to it anymore.

I carefully proceed towards the junior's clothes section and look around. I need nicer, new clothes... I eventually find a pair of jeans that I think would fit, of which I desperately need new ones. I find a simple, plain black t-shirt; it's nothing extraordinary, which will make it easy to blend in. I find a nice denim jacket, too; good for protection against the cold and it's thicker in case I'm attacked at all. I pick up other necessities, too, and a few extra things, like another t-shirt and things of the like. I pick out a nice hiking back pack too, and then proceed to the fitting room. I got a few odd stares with my appearance, but I'm about to escape that.

Once I get in the dressing room, I quickly shut and lock the door. I strip off my grimy clothes and put on all of the new ones. I look in the mirror: I mess with my hair, adjust my clothes, and wipe off as much dirt as I can. As soon as I'm satisfied with my appearance. I take my old clothes and the extra clothes and stuff them into the backpack. With that, I clutch my backpack in my hand, and turn invisible.

I carefully unlock the dressing room door, and little by little so nobody notices, I inch it open. When there's enough space for me, I slip out on light feet and run out of the store. I ripped off the tags and pried off the alarms in the dressing room, so my exit is smooth.

I grin. I did it again.

I couldn't afford to waste my valuable money on clothes when I can so easily steal them. That would be foolish. That money is my ticket to safety, and I had to steal my way to get their. I'm not proud, but I'm alive, and that's what matters.

...

As night begins to fall, I set out on my journey to find a train station. After stealing two water bottles, since that was all I could manage, I voyage out of Mayor, Virginia, alone once again.

I don't know how long it will take to find a train station, but I'll walk as long as it takes. This is my next move. I'm going to survive.

I'm going to survive alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Slight Disclaimer: All of the town names and places that are referenced in this piece are fictitious, they're of my own creation. The only geography that I'm truly trying to accomplish with these places and descriptions is their spatial organization regarding Six's escape and where she ends up from there. Thanks!**

**Once again, thank you so much to all of my readers and reviewers! Your feedback is greatly appreciated and so encouraging!**

**Happy reading! :)**

...

My walk is longer than I initially anticipated.

I lose track of time, but I'm certain it feels longer as soon as the agony and miserable feelings set in. The nauseousness I felt before I ate is back, but then again, I'm not sure if it ever left; I was distracted for far too long with surviving to even notice.

I start to feel tired and weak without more food to sustain me, and my chest hurts. Even worse, I'm coughing. I'm worn out from exhaustion and adrenaline crash. It's miserable, but it's necessary.

I pull my jacket tighter around me as I walk, suddenly feeling chilly even though the air isn't really cold. It just adds to my misery, but I trudge on in the night. My only guide is the lines on the road that are lit from the moonlight, and I can only pray that I will find a town or a train station soon. Misery...

After what truly does seem like forever, buildings and establishments begin to show up more frequently, eventually evolving into a system that looks like a town. It gives me a glimmer of hope. Street lights begin to light my way, and the town grows bigger and bigger, and it seems to be more alive. A city.

A city! It's a small city, but it's still a city. There must be a train station here. I've been walking for miles and miles, it has to be here.

My misery is thick, but my hope is more evident. A street light flickers above me as I cross the street. The city isn't exactly alive and kicking, but it's breathing, hints of activity evident with the occasional car, lit business, and sidewalk pedestrians. I start to weave through the grid pattern that reminds me of Mayor, Virginia to look for a train station. I scour the street signs, but they're hard to read in the dim light. I cross another street.

There it is! There's a sign. It reads, 'Amtrak Train Station: 3 Blocks South.' I smile with glee and dart in that direction, running through the exhaustion even though I shouldn't.

I'm out of breath when I arrive, but I'm lucky enough to pound up to the platform and catch it at a time when a train is in the station. Stragglers are getting on at the last minute, mostly various adults. But I don't care. The conductor yells out as he ushers people on, "Last call! Southbound train, last call!"

That's all I need to hear. I quickly run over to the window and buy a ticket, which sucks up all of my money easily, but I don't care. I run over to the train, and without so much as a glance to the conductor, I board the train.

I look around as I board and proceed to an empty row, climbing in and dropping down into a window seat. The train isn't very filled, so I have my space. I lazily drop off my hiking backpack next to me so no one can sit next to me, then I slump down in my seat. Gosh, I'm tired...

After a few minutes, the conductor says, "ALL ABOARD!" He climbs on the train, and the doors close behind him. I wait patiently for the train to start moving, but before it does, a person comes up the aisle, looking to each person and asking, "Ticket, please?" He hands them their ticket and he punches a hole in it and hands it back to them I just follow their lead.

He approaches me. His mustache is strikingly similar to the man who called the cops of me and I feel some subconscious resentment, even though I know that's wrong. "Ticket, please?" he asks me flatly. I don't blame him; he probably says this an endless amount everyday. I hand him my ticket and he performs the drill. As he hands it back to me, he gives me a strange look. He opens his mouth as if to say something; probably ask the same questions that most people are thinking or have attempted to retrieve answers for, but he eventually just shuts it and moves on. He doesn't care enough, which is fine by me.

When I'm finally settled, the train lurches to a start, and I feel an internal giddiness. Goodbye, Mogs. I'm leaving it behind. I'm heading for something new, and I will survive.

Synonymous to my giddiness, I realize how awful I feel as well. Nauseousness, chest pain, coughing, the whole deal. I truly am exhausted. Rest is what I need. And a little bit of hope...

This train speeding away from the Mogs is serving as my temporary hope. For now, I just need rest...

I close my eyes and lean against the window as Virginia speeds by, just as I did on the bus. I fall into sad sleep again.

But at least this time, it's a hopeful sleep.

...

I feel even worse when I wake up than when I fell asleep.

I wake up a few hours later when the train seems to be screeching to a stop. Before I figure out where I am, I have to get a handle on myself first. I'm more nauseous than ever, my head feeling heavy and dizzy. The chest pain has worsened, and my heart is still racing, and I know it's not from adrenaline any longer. My cough has worsened, sounding croaky in my throat. I still feel so tired, so weak...

"Last stop!" yells the conductor as I start to pay attention. "Last stop! North Rock Hill, South Carolina!"

I guess I have no choice but to get off, no matter how much I wish to stay in my seat and fall back into sleep plagued by pain. get to my feet on shaking legs and grab my bag. I pull out a water bottle and drink some of it. I swallow coarsely and end up coughing. This is wretched...

I start to exit the train, but I'm slow and weak, which receives a few irritated mutters from the remaining passengers behind me. Just before I exit the train, I ask the conductor, "Where are we again?"

"North Rock Hill, South Carolina," he repeats, even though I knew that. "About an hour south of the South Carolina northern border."

I nod my weak thanks and exit. South Carolina. That's quite some distance between me and the Mogadorian base, but there could be more. I have to take it for now, though.

It takes nearly all I my strength to exit the train alone. My legs shake and I breathe quickly. The nauseousness only gets worse as I move forward. I exit the train station and find that North Rock Hill is in the middle of nowhere. Which is convenient for now, because within seconds of standing still, I scramble to the nearest bush and vomit up what little is left in my stomach. It draws some attention, but not enough.

I fall to my knees weakly and rest there for a minute, trying to regain myself. After throwing up, I feel a little bit better now that the nausea has been taken care of and there's nothing left in my stomach. It's now just a dull lightheaded, dizzy feeling. When I manage the strength, I stand up, finally, on shaking legs. I clutch my backpack close to me and proceed on.

I quickly find that North Rock Hill truly is in the middle of nowhere. The train station stands alone with one paved road leading out of it. While the place is secluded, it's truly beautiful. The grass is green and stretches over a wide expanse. Trees pop up here and there, but there's wild flowers everywhere, purple, yellow, and white ones. The land is accented and shaped by rocky slopes that seem to bend and flow with the rest of the scenery. The sky is an endless expanse of blue, highlighted with puffy white clouds and a bright yellow sun.

The place is truly gorgeous, peaceful, and secluded. It would be the perfect place to hide out, I think, if I weren't so sick. I curse myself for even letting myself become sick, but I guess I shouldn't have expected myself to be in great health after spending such a long time in the Mogadorian prison.

I have to get to the nearest city. Yes, that's what I need to do. I can get help there. I'll check into a hospital anonymously, as a Jane Doe, get, healed, and sneak out without a trace. Yes, that's what I'll do. It's not the best or well thought out plan, but it's all I have, and it's what I desperately need.

But I have to get to a city first. So I take my only option and start walking. I walk down the main, paved road for a while on weak legs. I come to a stop light that's at a four way intersection, but there are no cars in sight. The lights change idly, periodically. On the side of the road, there's a green sign that reads, "Gardendale 8 Miles". I'm supposing that's a nearest city or at least it must be a decent town, so I head in the direction the arrow points. West, by the looks of the sun. Katarina taught me how to navigate using the sun in case I was ever in a situation like this. The lessons are paying off.

Eight miles...that's a long walk. I don't know if I'll make it that long, especially without food or water. Maybe it's better that way since I'll just throw up anything I consume. I'll just have to rest frequently. Somehow, I have to make it...

I'm winded and weak as it is, and the sun is hot. I pull off my jacket and hold it as I walk down the side of the road. Still no cars. As I walk, the road breaks off in two directions; one direction is a well-used dirt road and the other, broken away pavement that continues on as a road. I take a chance on the dirt road since it looks like it's been used much more than that broken pavement Either way, I'll get to the city. Somehow...

I start trudging along, my lightheadedness growing stronger. It hurts, and I'm dizzy, and the world is spinning around me. There's a ringing in my ears and the sunlight seems much too bright, its rays bending and twisting the scenery...

Suddenly, though, there's a form to my left, the outline of a person. I turn and try to focus on them, but their form is shaky and shimmery, especially in the radical light, almost like a silhouette. I blink and keep trying to make their image clear, but then they speak.

"Maren? Maren, are you okay?" The voice is a woman's concerned and caring. "Maren, can you hear me?"

I blink rapidly at my last human name. It...it can't be... "K-Katarina?"

Her form finally comes into focus, and she's smiling at me warmly, a smile I know so well. "It's me, Maren. Are you okay, baby?" she asks kindly. It makes my heart swell and my eyes well up with tears that make her blurry again.

"Kat...I-I miss you...I need you..." I tell her. I start to go towards her, stumbling and tripping over myself to reach her.

She smiles sadly. "I miss you too, baby girl. I'm so proud of you."

My heart contracts even more and I keep going so I can reach her, but it feels like she's farther away than she was before. "Katarina, I..."

She waves a delicate hand slowly, one that I'm used to having hold me at night when I'm scared. "Goodbye, Maren. I love you."

She starts, and I try to stumble to her faster. "Kat! Wait!" But by the time I try to reach her, she's gone, and I start to cry.

I collapse in the spot where she was and cry, just cry about what I've lost, cry in my loneliness, cry in my sickness.

And soon after that, I black out.

...

I don't know how long it takes, but I wake up later. It's still daylight, but there wasn't much daylight left when I fell asleep. Did I faint, or take a rest? I can't remember.

I look down around me. I'm in a sorry pile on a small slope, surrounded by grass and wildflowers. But I somewhat panic when I look around me. No dirt road. I lost the road, I lost the city. Oh no...what happened?

But as I sit there for a few minute and try to swallow to moisten my dry mouth it starts to flood back to my beating head. Katarina...I saw Katarina...but then I realize it.

I didn't.

I didn't see her. I thought I saw her, but I didn't. I hallucinated. I'm so ridiculously sick and dehydrated that I hallucinated to see my dead Cepan and thought it was real. But it wasn't, I'm alone.

I try to drag myself to my feet, but I can barely even craw. Oh no...this is bad... I drag myself along, it the realization truly hits me that I'm not going to make it to the city. I'm too dehydrated, too sick, too mentally beat up to even move myself, let alone get there.

I thought I could survive on my own, but I was only fooling myself. I can't survive. I can't beat them. I'm vulnerable, I'm weak. I'm alone.

I'm going to die here. This is my end.

The ringing in my ears is back, and I let myself collapse weakly. It's over...

But just as I close my eyes to let myself die, a shadow casts itself over me...


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm very sorry for the long wait for this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it! :)**

...

When the shadow is cast over me, I try to look up, try to make my eyes come into focus. What is it...?

It's a person. A man, in particular, bending over me and looking at me. I can't tell much about him in my hazy state, but he looks to be about thirty or so. His hair is dark, and his expression seems concerned and analytical, but that's about as much as my eyes and mind can take at the moment.

His hand comes up and feels my forehead, and I tense up. He mutters something, and before I have another minute to process, he slides his arms underneath of me and lifts me up and starts to carry me.

I blink and try to process him. Oh no... "L-Let me go!" I demand weakly. "L-Leave me al-lone!" I don't need anyone else to hurt me...

"It's okay," he tries to assure me. His voice is kind. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I don't believe him for a second. Humans have never been kind to me. The only real memorable experience I have is the bus driver, and he wasn't particularly pleasant to talk to despite his kind gesture. This man could be lying. This could be a trap.

"Everyone hurts me!" I yell, choked, but trying to be forceful, though I'm really just scared. The Mogs, the human government agents, all of them. They all hurt me. That's why I'm alone. That's why it needs to be this way. "Let me g-go!" I start to struggle against him, kicking as much as my weakness will allow.

He easily contains me. "Shh, it's okay, sweetheart," he coaxes. We finally approach a run-down light blue truck. The color is faded, but it gives it a quaint feeling. It's a truck that you'd expect to find this far out in the country. He opens the back door and starts to put me inside.

"No!" I yell. I manage to kick him hard on the shoulder and he stumbles back. I claw my way out the door of the truck and stumble down, setting myself free to escape. Escape again.

I start to run away, but I'm too slow in my weakness and he's much faster in his health.

"Stop!" he yells, but I don't listen. He eventually reaches me when I'm about to collapse again anyway. He catches me around the waist and lifts me up again. The ringing is back in my ears, the whole world is spinning, and I'm burning up. I go limp in his arms, and he proceeds to carry me back to the truck and lays me in the backseat. He slams the door and climbs in the driver's seat, starting the engine and turning up the air conditioner.

I'm hardly conscious as we drive, but my instincts are screaming for me to get away. But then again, maybe sickness is messing with my mind. Sickness wants me to stay put, but sense wants me to get out as fast as I can. I slowly inch towards one door and reach for the lock with shaking hands. I unlock it and pull it to open, planning on jumping out into the grass...

It doesn't open. He must've put the child lock on. NO! I try to put down the window to jump out of that...that's locked too. I scream and kick the door in frustration.

The man looks back. "Hey, hey! Calm down," he says, but his voice is gentle. "It's for the best."

Trap, my mind says. Trap. Trap.

We pull into a rocky driveway. The truck lurches to a stop and he turns off the engine, ceasing the hum of the truck around me, sputters and all. The back door opens and he reaches for me. I bat at him and try to fight back, but he manages to pin me enough to grab me. I scream. "Let me go!" I howl. I'm terrified at this point.

"Shh..." he urges, holding me tightly as he carries me into his house. It's small and isolated, but I still can't take in most of the details in my ill state. I hear the screen door squeak and slam shut behind us and we come into a small living room. "Relax," he says as he lays me carefully on the couch. "It's just you and me..."

I try to yell again, but it turns into another fit of coughs. "You...you're going to hurt me! I don't want to hurt anymore, please don't hurt me, please!" I beg. I can only beg. I can't call for help because I can't rely on the humans. Someone would take me to a hospital, or I'd end up in a worse situation than I'm in now. No, I can't call for help. I'm on my own, and I'm not in a good situation. The odds aren't in my favor.

I'm in a hysterical state at this point, nearly crying, but I hardly have enough energy to move off of the couch. The man stares down at me seriously, solemnly. "I won't hurt you," he says. "I promise."

I shake and tremble, but I fall into a fit of coughs again. I was scared before, but now that I'm here, unable to leave, ill, and in the hands of this stranger, I'm absolutely terrified.

The stranger looks at me sadly. "Water?" he asks carefully. I nod weakly. He nods and walks away to the kitchen. I wish I could process where I am, escape routes, possible weapons...but I'm completely useless right now.

He comes back a second later with a cold glass of water in his hand. He hands it to me, but my hand shakes. He carefully places his hand over mine and helps guide the cup to my mouth as I take a sip on my dry lips. Ah...it runs down my hot, dry, sore throat and it feels like something close to a miracle for me.

As I start to take my second sip, the stranger puts a cold rag on my forehead, but I shove it off immediately. The water is nice, but I have to be careful, because too much kindness is probably poisonous.

Nevertheless, he picks up the rag again and sets it on my forehead. "You need to keep that on there," he says gently. "It'll help bring down your fever." With less than enough energy to argue, I just leave it. A cold rag couldn't kill me...

The stranger helps me finish up my water, which I'm grateful for, but I still don't speak. He sets the glass down and carefully adjusts me and pulls off my denim jacket, probably to keep my cool. Soon after, though, he starts inspecting me. He studies my arms and face, rolls up my jeans to look at my legs, peeks up my shirt to study my stomach and back, and carefully presses on other places like my hips to see if I show indications of pain. I'm too weak to stop him.

"Well, you seem pretty much unscathed..." he notes, making last-second observations as he comes to his conclusion. "But you're awfully dirty." He stands up slowly. "I'll go run you a bath."

Once again, I can't argue, so I just watch him go and fall into another small fit of coughs. I hear him go to the bathroom and start running the water, and he comes back out a minute later with a small cup of red liquid in his hand. He kneels beside me again and tilts it into my mouth so I can drink it. I instantly spit it out; I don't know what he's trying to make me swallow.

He sighs and wipes it up and fills up the cup again. He looks at me and holds up the cup so I can see it. "It's medicine," he says. "It'll help you feel better. But I need you to take it first."

I shake my head and press away. "D-Don't trust you..." Katarina always taught me to stay away from the humans, never let them get near me or associate with me, because we couldn't trust them. She'd probably have a heart attack if she could see what I'm allowing this human to do to me, but then again, I don't have the strength to prevent it either.

The stranger looks at me sadly. "I want to help you," he says quietly. "But I can't if you don't let me." It's a plea for trust.

I just stare.

He looks deflated. "Would it help if I took it first and showed you that it's safe?" he asks as a last ditch attempt. I consider it and nod slightly. Even if it is harmful or poisonous, it would only affect him if I took it. But I'm not willing to risk it making me worse. The charm will always keep me alive, but it can't always save me from the sickness and pain of living itself.

Once I nod, he takes the medicine without hesitation and swallows. "There," he says plainly. "Totally safe." He goes to the bathroom and refills the cup with the medicine. "Now your turn." He tilts it to my lips, and this time, even though I'm afraid, I swallow it.

He smiles slightly, seeing that it's progress, even though I internally remain reluctant. He slowly helps me sit up and stand to my feet. "I'm going to take you to the bathroom so you can clean up, okay?" I just nod.

He helps me there and ends up basically carrying me in there. The bath is filled up and warm. He sets me on the edge.

"Do you think you can handle the rest of this on your own?" he asks me. I nod meekly. He nods as well and heads towards the door. "Call me if you need anything." He shuts the door behind him, and I'm alone again.

I carefully undress myself and leave my clothes, which are pretty much dirty now, in a little pile, then shakily ease myself into the warm tub. Ah... I sit and soak for a minute, trying to decipher my thoughts and what's going on.

I have no idea where I am, but I have to go with it for now. I'm incapable of anything else, and maybe the stranger truly is trying to help me. I think I know the angle he's trying to take; he's trying to help, wanting my trust, but he's trying to remain detached at the same time, because I'm not taking the bait like he wants me to. You can learn a lot by a person just by watching, paying attention, and I've somehow managed to even in my deranged state. This is all so taxing, it's too much. I'm not cut out to be on my own, not yet. I still need Katarina. But she's gone...

Suddenly, I hear the door knob turn and the hinges squeak slightly. When I look, a small pile of clothes is pushed just inside the doorway, and then the door shuts again. They're my clothes, the spare clothes I had in my backpack.

Which means he went through my bag. Great.

I decide to actually clean myself before the water gets cold, so using the small amount of energy I have left, I wash my hair and scrub down my body with a wash cloth. The water is murky and grimy by the time I'm finished, so I know I can't sit in it any longer, even though it makes me feel better. Maybe he'll let me take another bath later... I drag myself out of the tub and reach for the towel. I slowly make my way and dry myself off. It feels so good to be clean... I close my eyes and reminisce on the home moments I had with Katarina, when I was well cared for like this moment...

No. I have to get my mind away from her. She's gone. She's gone.

I struggle to get into my clothes, and by the time I've done it all, I nearly collapse. I lean against the wall by the door and rest.

The stranger must realize I'm done, because he inches open the door and sees me on the floor, but I'm only half conscious at that point. He slips his arms under me and picks me up. He carefully carries me out of the bathroom and I lose more consciousness by the step. Eventually, we enter another room and he lays me down in a bed.

"Just sleep..." he says as he covers me with the blankets.

That's the last thing I hear before I black out.


	6. Chapter 6

When I wake up, the first thing I'm aware of is something pressed to my chest. Something cold.

I slowly regain my senses, slowly open my eyes. That's when I realize that the something is a stethoscope, and the stranger is listening to my heart beat. I try not to panic.

His eyes come up to mine momentarily and he sees that I'm awake. "Your heart is quick," he says softly as he listens to its intense beat. "Why is that?"

It's true. My heart is much faster than a human's heartbeat because my endurance is so much higher and my Legacies are conjuring, at work inside of me. My body needs to work faster than a human's, therefore, my heartbeat is faster than what is humanly possible.

"I'm just sick..." I tell him quietly, though I tremble. I cough a bit.

"Yes, but you shouldn't be able to live with this heart rate," he says. He hands me another dose of medication.

"Then maybe I'm going to die..." I say gravely. I take the medicine and nod my thanks.

"I sure hope not." He takes off the stethoscope and reaches his hand out, stroking my hair gently. I sniff as he does, trying not to whimper. I'm in a lot of pain, but he sees this easily. He can pick it out almost instantly, no matter how much I try to hide it. "What hurts, sweetheart?" he asks.

I sigh, which just inspires more pain. "M-My stomach...and my head...and I feel really hot," I admit.

He looks as if he's in thought. "Queasy or achy?" he asks, referring to my stomach.

"Uh...achy," I tell him. "Like everything is going to collapse on itself..."

He nods. "Dehydration." He rubs my stomach gently for a minute and then heads off. He comes back a minute later with more water for me.

I take it and start to drink. Now that I've at least rested a little bit, though I don't know how long it truly was, I can see clearly and think clearly as well. I can take in my surroundings.

The man is clear for the first time. He's tall and broad with a suntan and dark hair. He wears a plain, light gray shirt and jeans, but I can't recall if he was wearing that when he found me. His expression is stoic yet kind and he has steely blue-gray eyes. He's probably in his late twenties or early thirties, and as far as I can tell, he lives here alone. He's more of a loner, but doesn't always want to be. I can tell that about him from as much as I've seen. He doesn't look hostile or like he wants to hurt me, but I know I have to be wary of him either way.

The room, on the other hand, is small with white walls and pale yellow curtains on the windows. There's a couple pictures on the walls, but they're subtle, landscapes of blues, forest greens, muted orange, pale yellow, and woodland browns that create something nice to look at. The bed is big, far big enough for me. There's a nightstand next to the bed with a clock on it as well as the stethoscope, a thermometer, and a bottle of the medicine that has obviously been used for taking care of me. There's also a dresser on the other side of the room. The room looks used, well-inhabited. It must be his room. Glancing out the door, I can see the hallway, which I recognize from going to the bathroom. From this, I deduce that the house is small, with only one story.

I'm so caught up in my surroundings that I hardly notice him positioning my arm, them sticking a needle into it.

"What are you doing?!" I ask quickly. I know better than to move my arm, even if I want to escape, because it may hurt my vein or some other vital part.

"Calm down," he implores gently. "It's just an IV so you can get liquid back into your system." I finishes sticking it in and keeps it in place. "Just leave that in for about fifteen minutes, and I'll make you something to eat in the mean time."

And with that, he heads towards the door. But he stops once he's there and turns around. "By the way," he says, his expression neutral but something of a kind smile is playing at his lips. "My name is Andrew. You can trust me." And with that, he goes.

And I'm left alone, baffled by this stranger. Like they were in the truck, my instincts are screaming for me to get away, but the insane part of my brain is telling me to stay put, let it play out. After all, the stranger-Andrew-can't hurt me. I have nothing to lose aside from emotional pain, and I'm hardening to that already. But maybe he will take care of me...

But then again, it might be a trap. A real trap. Maybe he's actually working with the Mogs, not just a human with a twisted agenda, a sadist. I don't know if I can survive that...

But then again, what if he's not? I don't know. And I won't know unless I wait it out, just a little bit longer. But I'm not going to trust him. No way will I trust him. Not until I know I can...

Fifteen minutes passes soon and Andrew comes back to remove my IV. "Does that feel any better?" he asks. I nod slightly but don't say anything more. "Good." He nods once. As he takes the IV out, I can't help but wonder why he must have it, as well as the stethoscope. Is he a doctor? I certainly hope not...

"Your food is ready..." he tells me, then proceeds to help me out of bed. Walking is hard, as my legs feel raw and weak, but he holds onto me and supports me. He's really warm...

When we get to the kitchen, he gently sets me on a stool in front of the island. It takes me a second to steady myself, but I manage to stay up. Andrew sets a plate and a glass in front of me; on the plate is a turkey sandwich with lettuce an cheese and noodles and there's also noodles. In the glass is a large serving of grape juice. I look at the food, then up at him. He raises his eyebrows at me. "You're obviously very hungry, aren't you?"

I gulp, but I nod. I slowly pick up the sandwich with shaking fingers and take a bite. I don't want to seem too eager to eat, but I'm pretty sure Andrew knows that I am. He probably realizes I haven't eaten in a while. I shakily keep eating and finish soon. He rubs my back. "How about more noodles and juice?" he asks. "More carbohydrates for your energy and vitamin C to beat your pneumonia."

"Pneumonia?" I ask, choked. "I have pneumonia?" Oh no...

He nods and scoops more noodles onto my plate and then pours more grape juice. "Yeah. Pretty bad, too, but you'll get better," he assures.

My stomach sinks. "A-Are you going to take me to the doctor? Or the hospital?" I ask fearfully.

He shakes his head. "That won't be necessary," he says simply as he finishes dishing out the rest of the noodles.

I nibble at the noodles and gulp. "Why not?" I ask. Isn't that what humans do when you're sick? Take them to the doctor, have them cured. That's just what you do, and he's a human too.

"Because I'm a doctor," he tells me.

I stop eating and I freeze, along with my heart. He's a doctor. A doctor understands the human body, how it works, how to cure it, all of its ins and outs.

But I don't have a human body. I don't have the same body that he has. I don't have the body that he understands.

He's going to find out about me.

No. No, I can't let that happen. I have to run, I have to get away. I can't trust him. I can't let him find out what I am.

Andrew immediately sees my discomfort and frowns. "Do you have a bad experience with doctors?" he asks me carefully.

I go pale. "No...no, I'm alright," I tell him.

He doesn't look satisfied with that answer, but he drops it for now. I quietly finish up eating, and he takes my plate and puts it in the sink. "Do you need anything else?" he asks me. I shake my head quietly. I honestly do feel a little bit better now that I have food and drink in my system, but I can definitely go back to bed. He pats my back again. "Alright. In that case, you can go rest. But I want to take your temperature again first."

He helps me back to his bedroom and back into bed. He sticks the thermometer in my mouth and waits for it, and I sit quietly. He takes it out after a moment, looks at it, but doesn't tell me the result. He just pats my head and stands up. "Get some rest, kiddo. I'll wake you up later."

He doesn't need to tell me twice. I nod and sink down into the sheets, and once again, I drift off into a dark, unsettled sleep...


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you so much to those who are reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following my story! I really hope you continue to enjoy it, and thank you for the support. :) I'd love to hear what you think of the story, your predictions, or what I could improve on. Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! :)**

...

The next week or two remains pretty uneventful, falling into a routine as I try to heal from my pneumonia. But throughout most of it, I try to keep my distance, try to stay reserved.

I sleep a lot, through most days. Andrew wakes me up mostly to eat, three meals and snacks to keep me going, but that doesn't stop me from sleeping. There's always water at my bedside when I wake up and Andrew is usually there too. I get a few doses of medicine everyday and my temperature is checked twice. He runs me a bath every other day, and it's always warm. He washes my two sets of clothes often, and he's given my some of his shrunken t-shirts to keep me going for now. I always cooperate with him.

Despite all of this, I remain distant from him, not letting him get too close. I don't even tell him my name, not that I have a true one anyway. I appreciate the kindness, but I still don't know how genuine it is. I hardly speak to him, mostly nodding my thanks. He doesn't pry too much, at least not yet, but I'm sure he will. I can see the constant wonder, the constant questions in his eyes, and I can't help but wonder how long it's going to take for that to spill over. Still, the relationship remains pretty mutualistic. It's an okay existence for the moment. I have to live with it.

Slowly, though, my sickness starts to improve. It takes a while, but improvement comes slowly and Andrew lets me know that it is, which helps.

The weeks remain less than eventful, only with occasional happenstances. The first one occurs as I'm still healing, right in the morning with breakfast something pleasant, and I cling to it for a little while.

It's the morning, and surprisingly enough, I wake up on my own. I rarely wake up by myself. Andrew always has to wake me up because I'm too tired and too sick to do it myself. But today, I wake up on my own. I go out to the kitchen to see him.

He's surprised when he turns from the cupboard to see me. He's still wearing his reading glasses, a piece of dark hair falling in his eyes as he looks over the rims at me. He smiles. "Well, good morning," he says. "I'm surprised to see you awake I usually have to wake you up." He's still wearing his pajamas, too; flannel pants and a gray shirt. Simple, like everything else about the way he lives.

"I woke up on my own," I tell him.

He smiles gently. "You know what that means?" he asks. I look at him for the answer. "It means your healing. It means your body has the motivation to wake itself, to get itself going." He smiles wider. "That's great. That's improvement."

I nod in return. After that, the toaster dings, and he pulls out four slices of wheat bread. "I was just making our breakfast," he tells me. He butters and jellies our toast and puts two slices on plates. A kettle on the stove starts to boil and he turns off the burner. I watch as he seemingly juggles the task of a simple breakfast. He's not used to caring for anyone besides himself, and even though he has a little bit of a stressed look in his eye, there's a sheer joy on his face regarding taking care of another person. He loves it.

He sets the plates of toast down and pours boiling water into two mugs. "Do you like tea?" he asks me.

I nod. "I love tea." Katarina and I loved tea, we would drink it almost as much as we drank coffee. I haven't had any since she died, and the reminder pangs my heart again.

"Good," he says, smiling slightly. "Because this morning, I'm making you my favorite kind of tea. English Breakfast Tea." He winks and drops a tea bag in each of our mugs, then he sets one in front of me, along with my plate of toast and the sugar bowl. He sits down across from me as I mix in one spoon full of sugar.

Andrew takes out our tea bags after they seep and throws them away. I smell the tea. "Black tea," I conclude. "That's my favorite."

He smiles at me. "Good." He takes a sip of his and I follow suit. Mm...

"It's really good," I tell him, a shy smile tugging at my lips.

He smiles wider. "I told you." He sips it again. "I have a ton of tea here if you want more. All kinds of it."

"Really?" I ask. Katarina and I usually only kept black tea and green tea in the house; those were our favorites.

He nods. "Sure. Here, I'll boil more water." He fills up the kettle and sets it on the stove again. I smile a little bit.

He goes over to a cabinet and pulls out a huge jar, which he brings over and sets in front of me. Inside the jar are tons and tons of different tea bags. Every kind, every flavor. Black tea, green tea, Earl Grey, lemon, chamomile, mint, pomegranate, anything you can think of. "Wow," I say. "That's a lot of tea..."

He chuckles. "Yeah," he says with a nod. "We could spend all morning trying it."

And that's just what we do. Andrew boils kettles of water and refills our mugs. We seep the tea bags, add sugar, and enjoy all of the different flavors. Most of them are really good. You have to experiment with how long to let them seep and how much sugar to add, but seeing that Andrew is an avid tea drinker, he has nearly mastered the art. And I smile when we do. I enjoy myself. I feel like I'm at home with Katarina again, just with slightly different circumstances.

"What do you think of that one?" he asks. It's my third cup of tea, and it's lemon. I stir in the preferred amount of sugar and sip, but only a small one. Ick...it's too sweet and tart at the same time. It's not good at all. I make a face and put it down. Andrew chuckles.

"Not your cup of tea?" he asks. I laugh slightly and shake my head, and I feel almost normal for a second, here, with him, healing and drinking tea.

It's the closest thing we've had to bonding. And I cling to it for a little while. I enjoy it.

But I know it can't last.

...

And it doesn't. I should've known.

The next event of interest occurs near the end of my first week with him. Andrew wakes me up for lunch; he made me tomato soup with crackers and buttered bread, which is satisfying enough. It keeps me going, just as he's intending for me. It's while I'm eating that he stops my heart.

"Sweetheart..." He's been using endearments since he doesn't know my name. "What are those scars on your ankle?" he asks curiously. He's somewhat blunt about it...

I nearly choke on my soup in surprise, but I hide it pretty well otherwise. "They're just...nothing," I tell him quietly, looking down at my soup. I take another bite. A Goldfish cracker swims on my spoon and I swallow the bite coarsely.

Andrew raises an eyebrow and his eyes drift to my ankle, even though my pants cover them now. He must have seen them when he examined me in the first place, but he didn't want to say anything initially. He's taking the chance now. "I hardly believe those are nothing," he says quietly. "Scars like that are no accident. They're not common by any means. Where did they come from?"

"I don't remember, " I tell him immediately.

He sighs and looks at me sadly. "Sweetheart..." he says again. He seems to call me that most, probably because it seems as close to a real name that he has for me. "You're going to have to trust me at some point."

"I don't have to do anything," I say quickly. "You just found me and took me in. I don't have to trust you."

"But I want you to," he says to me, looking at me. "You need help, and I know that. I want to help you, too. But I can't do that if I don't know anything about you." He sighs quietly. "I don't even know your name..."

"It's better this way," I say quickly. "I won't get hurt and neither will you."

"I'm not going to hurt you," he says immediately, a quick assurance that he believes is urgent that I know. "I promise I won't."

I get out of my stool and stand on shaking legs. "How do I know you're not lying?!" I say defensively. "I'm only lied to! I'm only ever hurt! I don't want to hurt anymore!"

He looks at me sadly and stands, reaching out a hand. "Sweetheart..."

"No," I cut him off. I turn and stumble back to the bedroom. "Just leave me alone!" I get to my room and slam the door. As I climb back into bed to sleep, I hear Andrew's footsteps coming down the hall, but then they stop in front of my door. I hear him faintly sigh and then he walks away, seemingly defeated.

I fall asleep and don't hear from him again until dinner. We don't speak when that time comes. And then I sleep again.

...

The next few days are rocky between the two of us. We still go through the same routine, and I'm starting to get even better. But it feels even more miserable now that I ruined the little bit of tolerance we've had for one another. I know he still cares about me, but I can't help but feel like I've wrecked something. That's what I've always had to do. Push away the world, even when it tries to care about me. That's how I stay safe, but I wish it could be different.

And that shove away is what inspires me to try to run away. I'm in near health now, and I need to get out while I can. The problem is, though, that Andrew never lets me out of his sight. He never lets me go outside or be by myself, and he's probably perfectly right to do so. So I wait until it's nighttime. He'll definitely think I'm asleep. I quietly pack up all of my clothes into my backpack. I sneak out to the kitchen and steal some food to keep me going for a while. I stay quiet in order not to be heard. With that, I try to sneak out the back door.

Andrew is already asleep on the couch under a yellow knit blanket; that must be where he's been sleeping since I'm in his bed, but he doesn't seem to mind. It is kind, though. His reading glasses still sit on his nose and he has the newspaper in his lap. He must have fallen asleep reading it, but at least he looks peaceful. I quietly try to open the door, but it squeaks loudly, as it always does when it opens. I know that if I keep opening it slowly, the squeaking will wake him up.

So I take a chance. I open it quickly, run out, and slam it behind me. I have no other choice.

As I pound down the back steps, I hear Andrew's voice; I woke him up. "Sweetheart!" he calls loudly, but I ignore him and run, run down into the yard.

I keep running and running, but eventually, I fall into a fit of loud coughs. Oh no...I thought the cough spells were over. It eventually gets so bad that I collapse to my knees, gasping for air on the ground, clutching my stomach. I lean down in the grass, trying to stop myself from shaking, but it's no use. I cough into my hand and it comes away warm, wet, and sticky; blood. I coughed up blood.

That's when I hear the back door's notorious squeak and a slam from far behind. Footsteps pound down the back steps and I scream. I collapse down into the grass completely, weak, feeling as if everything around me is a nightmare.

The footsteps finally reach me, pounding through the grass; Andrew. Of course it's Andrew, there's no one else. He kneels down beside me. "Sweetheart," he says, trying to stay calm but actually sounding rather feverish. "My gosh..." He slips his arms underneath of me and picks me up. I struggle.

"Let me go!" I yell. Deja vu... "It's better this way!" I thought I was well...

"I'm not leaving you," he says immediately. "That's not an option." He carries me back to the house, up the steps, in the door, down the hall, and into bed. He lays me down, takes off my backpack, my shoes, and my jacket and tucks me in. I'm all but disoriented at this point.

He strokes my raven black hair as I lay there on the pillow. He takes his opportunity, seeing my state. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asks me quietly.

I breathe shakily. "Maren..." I whisper, using my last human name that Katarina gave me. "My name is Maren Elizabeth..."

He smiles faintly, though there's sadness and relief hanging on it. "That's a beautiful name," he says. He stands up, leans over, and kisses my head. "Just sleep, Maren...just sleep for now."

And so I do. I sleep through the night.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, I wake up early, much earlier than I should. I feel restless for a little while, tossing and turning in the covers and trying to keep my coughing to a minimum so I don't wake Andrew. After a while, I feel the need to get up and move around, so I decide to get up and be productive enough to get myself a glass of water. It feels like the only thing I can do now.

I quietly make my way out to the kitchen and pour myself a glass. I sit down at the kitchen table to drink it and try to wake myself up enough to put my thoughts in order.

I'm weak. I'm weak again. Disappointment floods my chest at the realization. I thought I was getting better, but I guess I'm not. I felt okay, like I could move, as if I was truly healing. But people who are healing don't cough up blood. I tried to run, but I was too weak to do so.

And that's another point on my mind; I tried to run. I believed that I had served my time. I was healing, but I still didn't know if there are strings attached to this. I still don't know. I was running from the torture before it could start. The Mogs are still after me. They could find me here. Just because I'm hidden out on rural land doesn't mean I'm invisible. It doesn't mean I'm invincible. It certainly doesn't mean I'm safe.

And, assuming that he is, in fact, on my side, what if Andrew is caught in the crossfire? I don't want that to happen to him. I can't. It's not fair. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let him get hurt. The only way to keep him safe is to get out, to not let him get involved at all. I can't let him know who I really am or what I'm really doing here. I can't extend my battle to those it doesn't belong to.

I shake my head of the thoughts. I'll figure it out tomorrow, try to think more clearly in the morning. I pull myself up from the chair and walk robotically down the hall. Even though it's dark, it's the first time I'm really paying attention to what's around me. It's the first time I notice a door to a room I've never been in...

My curiosity overwhelms me. Carefully, I inch open the door and peek inside. It's too dark to truly see anything, so I flick on the light.

I'm greeted with a personal horror.

The room has several sterile study tables, each one holding equipment, tools, dead specimens, microscopes, clipboards, stethoscopes, and other things that send shivers up my spine. It's obviously a place of study, study of the living and nonliving, the healthy and the sick, the normal and the abnormal. It's a place to figure things out, to discover through examination. It's a makeshift laboratory of sorts.

But I'm the abnormal. I don't want to be figured out or discovered. I can't be, because if I am, I'm as good as another specimen, for a human instead of the Mogs this time. No...

I quickly shut off the light and hurry into the hall, trying to leave it all behind me. I go back to my room and climb into bed. I burrow under the covers and close my eyes, telling myself that I'll figure it out in the morning, that I need rest, and that it will all be okay.

It will all be okay...

...

The next morning, I wake up on my own like I have been, despite my slight episode last night. As always, I give myself a few minutes to rest there, despite the constant inability to fall back to sleep and the inevitability of having to wake up. I eventually convince myself that I have to get up, so I sit up and stretch out with a yawn. I eventually drag myself out of bed, rubbing my eyes, and go down the hall to the kitchen. I try to forget about the muted horrors of the room as I pass it. I swallow coarsely.

Andrew is out in the kitchen, fixing breakfast as he usually is. He smiles when he sees me, a sad smile. "Good morning, Maren," he says quietly as he cuts up fruit for our breakfast.

My voice catches in my throat momentarily. He called me Maren...but then I remember. I told him my name last night in my horrendously deranged state. There's nothing I can do about it now, so I just nod once as I slip onto my stool. "Good morning..." I reply.

He looks at me with concern in his eyes. "How are you feeling?" he asks me.

I shrug a little. "Okay, I guess." I look up at him with inquiry in my eyes. "But...what about last night? What happened to me? I thought I was getting better."

He sighs shallowly. He has shadows under his eyes; I think he's a little bit overwhelmed, just like me. "You had a relapse, sweetheart. They can happen with pneumonia sometimes, but that doesn't mean you're not healing. You have a unique case." He looks back down at the fruit he's cutting. "A very unique case indeed..." he mutters.

I sigh and nod. I guess I won't be one hundred percent for a little while... But I'll just have to live with it.

Andrew sets a bowl of fruit down in front of my just as the kettle on the stove starts to boil. He takes it off as I begin to nibble and poke at my fruit. He makes me some tea and I thank him quietly. Breakfast is quiet for the most part.

That is, until we're close to the end. That's when Andrew looks at me with a kind expression and says, "You finally told me your name..." he says, a slight amount of satisfaction in his voice. I nod in acknowledgement. I guess he must see me telling him my name as the slightest sign of trust. I don't point out that I wouldn't have done it had I been in a proper state of mind.

"So where are you from, Maren?" he asks me casually before taking a sip of tea. Now he's starting to become a little bit more hungry for information about me, which doesn't sit well with me.

"I don't remember," I tell him plainly. I don't have a true home anyway, and it's not as if I can say Lorien. I hardly remember Lorien anyway.

Andrew raises his eyebrows at me. "Are you sure about that?" he asks carefully. Andrew is intuitive; he knows that I've been lying to him, but he's also smart enough to know that he has no grounds to constantly accuse me of lying. He wants to gain my trust, and he knows that he's not going to be able to do it if he's constantly questioning me, despite the fact that he knows I'm not typically truthful.

"Yes, I'm sure," I say without a tinge of uncertainty in my voice.

He nods, but it's only because he has to. "Okay," he says evenly. "Then while you try to think about it..." he walks over to the kitchen table and picks up a stethoscope. He looks back to me and holds it up. "You mind if I listen to your heart and whatnot again? I want to be sure you're still okay inside after your relapse."

I gulp and a knot forms in my stomach. I have a bad feeling about this now... "U-Um...I don't think that's a good idea..." I tell him quietly.

He raises his eyebrows at me. "Why not?" he asks carefully.

"Uh...it's just...not a good idea..." I tell him, though my voice is uncertain.

His face grows stoic momentarily. "I see," he says. He sits down on the stool across from me and puts the stethoscope behind his neck the way a doctor would. He looks me in the eyes, and I'm forced to look back. "Are you nervous?" he asks in a gentle voice. "Or afraid?"

"No, of course not," I tell him, still looking in his eyes. He needs to think that I'm okay.

"Okay then..." He pauses for a second, as if trying to find the best way to ask the next question. "...Does it have anything to do with your inhumanly fast heart rate?" he finally asks. He's blunt, but he's not rude.

"No," I tell him. I don't break eye contact, even as I lie. "But that's only because I'm sick."

He nods once, not really acknowledging my defense for my heart beat. "Okay. Then what's the problem?" He's gathered the only two logical explanations for my reluctance, and I've denied both of them. I'm trapped.

"There's no problem," I say flatly, cursing him silently for backing me into a corner that way. But he knows what he did; he's not being a jerk about it, at least.

"Good," he concludes. "Then can you lay down on the couch so I can have a listen?" he asks. Submitting, I nod. He's satisfied.

I robotically get off of my stool and go out to the living room to lie down on the couch. I move aside the yellow knit blanket that Andrew has been sleeping under and I lay down, propping my head on a pillow. NOW I'm nervous...

Andrew comes out right behind me and bends down next to the couch where I lay. I puts the stethoscope in his ears, then pressing it to my chest and slipping another hand underneath of me to brace on my back. "Take a deep breath, sweetheart," he instructs gently, obviously trying to make me feel comfortable despite the circumstances. I comply to his request.

It's quiet as he listens. I keep breathing, and he moves the stethoscope different places, listening to my lungs and other sounds from inside my body. Sometimes he listens longer than others, and sometimes it only takes a second. I'm acutely aware of his hands touching me, the way they tense momentarily when he hears something and the kind manner in which they move. His face remains stoic and solemn for a majority of the time, only once or twice twitching at something. He eventually ceases.

"Well, good news," he says, putting the stethoscope around his neck again. "Everything is stable." He smiles a bit.

"Really?" I ask as I sit up. "You mean my heart is slower and everything sounds normal?" It should sound like good news, but if that's truly that case, I should be worried. My body shouldn't be slowing down. That would be a sign of deterioration rather than healing for someone like me.

"No," he tells me. "Your heart, your lungs, they're all still going really fast. When I first examined you, they were faster and more sporadic. Since you've been healing, they've slowed down just a bit to become more stable and even, but they're still extremely fast." He shrugs slightly and looks at me. "But I've come to the conclusion and accepted that that's simply how your body works. It's very fast inside. I'm not sure why it is that way, because it's not normal. But it seems to be normal for you. I just can't explain why."

I just look down and nod a little bit. He knows that's how I am, but he doesn't know why...

He stares at me with a level expression for a minute, but I try not to look up, and he's apparently waiting for me to say something. When I say nothing, he cautiously asks, "Do you want to explain that to me?"

I flinch slightly. He knows that I know, but I can't tell him. But instead of lying, I just keep my gaze down and I shake my head. I can't tell him the truth...

He sighs sadly. He was really hoping that I would tell him; I can see that much. He's truly curious, he truly wants to know because I am an enigma, but even more than that, he still wants me to trust him. And I'm still resisting. "You know, Maren..." he says quietly. "I just want to help you."

I sigh and shake my head. I want to believe him, but ulterior motives could be hiding anywhere. I have to be wary, no matter how much I want to simply trust him. No matter how much I want to be cared about...

Instead of imploring for the trust, he just stands and helps me up. "Come on, kiddo. Let's go finish breakfast."

We go back to the kitchen, and we make more tea. He doesn't bring it up for the rest of the day.


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm so sorry for the long wait for this chapter! It's a bit longer than usual, but I hope you enjoy it! Please read and review, I'd love to hear what you think! Thank you for all of your support! :)**

...

The next day, Andrew insists that we go out shopping to get me new clothes since I'm feeling well enough.

"You really don't have to do this...it's not your responsibility..." I tell him quietly, even though I'm secretly hoping and excited to get new clothes and the things that I need. I want to have someone willingly provide them for me again rather than having to steal everything.

"I know that, but I want to," he says as he grabs the keys and we head out to the truck. "Besides, you can't live on my shrunken t-shirts forever." He winks and opens the passenger door for me as we go out, and I haul myself inside.

"Thank you..." I say quietly. He climbs in the driver's seat and starts the car. He then takes my hand in his and thumbs my palm gently, a gentle gesture. He's being so kind to me...

We take the rest of the ride in content silence to a big store and he parks the truck. He jumps out and comes over, opening the door for me like he always does. I nod my thanks and climb out, having to steady myself momentarily, but I'm okay. We walk into the store together and back to the clothing section. It smells clean and new in this store, neither of which I'm too used to after being in that Mog prison for months then on the road for a couple weeks.

He smiles when we stop. "Pick anything you want, kiddo," he says. I nod and start looking around.

There's so much to choose from... Andrew goes and sits down on a nearby bench and watches me. I walk around and start looking at the racks... I pick up a blue sweatshirt, a red V-neck shirt, a white t-shirt and a gray t-shirt, another pair of jeans, black yoga pants, gray sweatpants, other necessities...

I look up. Andrew is still watching me, and he's watching me intently. The notion makes me feel unsafe, and I feel suffocated. I don't want it. I don't like it.

I gulp. "I...I guess I'll go try these on," I tell him. He points to the dressing room, and I quickly follow the direction, go in, and slam the door behind me. I pace quickly, trying to keep my head on straight. He's just watching me...he won't ever take his eyes off of me...he's a doctor...he realizes I'm not normal...

I stop. This is a recipe for disaster, not to mention my downfall. I know what I have to do.

This marks my second attempt to run away.

I come up with my plan. I quickly change into my new clothes and leave my old ones behind in the dressing room. I check myself in the mirror, then I turn myself invisible, just like I did when I stole clothes from the store before. I slowly open the dressing room door, just enough for me to slip through, and I dart out without looking back. I quickly weave through people into one of the less crowded aisles and crouch down, curling up until I fit myself into the bottom shelf. I'll stay here until Andrew leaves, and then I'll be on my own again. No matter how attached I'm beginning to get, how much I want to feel safe and trust him, this is for the best. I have to be a realist and remember that, remember the war and the other Loric. I'm not a human and I never will be. My composure will stand for that.

I stay still and quiet. From a little bit away, I hear the door of my dressing room creak open, obviously by somebody's hand. A second later, I hear Andrew curse and slam the door in frustration. I feel guilty momentarily and my heart breaks, but this is for the best. It has to be for the best...

Suddenly, I feel the familiar tickle in my throat. The one that can mean only one thing; another coughing fit of pneumonia. I try to swallow it down, force it back, but the need is too strong. I instantly start coughing loudly and long, unable to stop. It appears to be my trademark, and it always conveniently occurs when I need to stay quiet.

I hear footsteps coming closer. "Maren...?" It's Andrew's voice. I quickly materialize in my spot so I don't seem suspicious, knowing that he's going to find me. I curl up tighter.

Soon enough, I see his feet and he bends down next to me. "Sweetheart..." he says, his voice sad, disappointed. "Come out of there."

He slowly helps me out, and I start to tremble in apprehension again, being caught now for nearly running away again and trying to steal. I look at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry! I'm just scared, and I was trying to think, but you were just watching me like a hawk and...and..." Now he thinks I'm a criminal too. I'll add it to the list of things that are incriminating me of being someone I'm not.

"It's okay, Maren. Calm down." He sits down beside me and strokes my back.

"I...I'm so sorry...I don't like to steal, but I have to and...and..." I'm tripping over my words. "Please don't turn me in!"

"I'm not going to, sweetheart." He gently wraps his arms around me in a hug. I tremble in his grasp and I wrap my arms around him. When I do, I see, to my horror, that my hand has gone invisible without my initiation. Oh no. It's happening. My stress and anxiety are pulling my Legacies out of whack. I'm doomed.

He rubs my back carefully as I start to shake harder. "Shh..." he says. I clench my fist and hide it behind my back, but I'm trying to accept the comfort. I bite my lip. Get it together, Six...

Andrew pulls back and looks at me, frowning. "Maren, what are you hiding?" He indicates my hand behind my back.

"I can't tell you!" I tell him quickly. The realization dawns on me that he might think I'm stealing again. "But I'm not stealing, I promise!" No, no, no...

He looks at me, stern but soft. "Don't you lie to me, little lady," he says. "I believe you, but if I find out you've been lying, I won't be happy."

"I'm not lying!" I insist frantically. "I promise!" I tremble more and he slowly takes me in his arms.

"Shh..." he croons, holding tight to me. He's a bit startled seeing me this way, as if it were in a new light. I hold him back with my visible arm, but I start to panic. I can feel the visibility creeping up my arm. "Calm down," he implores of me when he senses my further anxiety.

"I'm trying..." I say sadly. And yet, my invisibility keeps crawling up my arm, unchecked and uncontrolled. But I have to hide it.

With my arm still behind my back, Andrew pulls me to my feet carefully. "Go back to the dressing room and get changed. We'll pay for your clothes and head home," he tells me. Hiding my arm as best as I can, I comply to his request hastily.

I shut the door and quickly undress, then I study the extent of my invisibility. It's reached about halfway up my forearm at this point, but it feels like it's slowly spreading, like pricks of a needle, one at a time, somehow drastic all the same. I quickly pull on the t-shirt that I wore today, one of Andrew's old and shrunken ones; it's not big enough to hide my arm, so I take another route and put my arms inside the shirt, as if I were holding it in a weird position to prevent pain. Once I do, I slip on my jeans and grab the rest of my clothes with my left arm, then I shuffle out of the dressing room to Andrew at the checkout. He pays for them without another word and we head out.

As we walk towards the familiar truck in the parking lot, Andrew glances at me curiously. "Is your arm okay?" he asks.

I nod stiffly. "I think I just...bent it wrong when I curled up. It's just sore. It feels better in this position."

He nods once and leaves it at that for now.

...

I look down at the bag of clothes at my feet, almost amazed that I'm back in this truck, trusting this near stranger's kindness yet again. "No...No one has ever really been kind to me this way before," I finally admit to him in a quiet voice as we drive down the winding back road, about halfway home already. my arm is still out of sight in my shirt.

"I could never understand why," he says.

"If only you knew..." I mutter. "You'd neglect me just like anybody else would..."

"I don't think I would." All of his responses are plain, as if they're solid fact. As if there's no question in his mind that he would never abandon me this way, no matter what the reason is.

"Everyone else would..." I say sadly, staring at my lap.

"Well, I'm not everyone else." I see him glance over at me briefly, but that's all. We're silent for a little while after that. Trees, hills, and rocky cliffs and slops roll past us in the distance as we drive. He takes my hand reassuringly in his again, just like he did earlier, and I suppose I'm grateful.

"What is that other room?" I ask finally, abruptly, though I don't mean for it to be. "The one down the hall from the room I'm sleeping in..."

He raises his eyebrows at me. "When were you in that room?" he asks skeptically, considering he never let me in there before.

"I woke up in the middle of the night and got a drink of water, and when I went back down the hall, I accidentally wandered in that room instead of my own because it was dark and I turned on the light," I explain to him. It's stretching the truth, considering I went in that room purposefully to see what it was, but the story should satisfy him enough to believe it was an accident that I went in.

"I see..." he says evenly. "It's something of a laboratory for me. In addition to being educated in medicine, I'm also educated in biology, so I'm a scientist of sorts on top of being a doctor. That's where I keep my own projects and other things from work."

My throat goes dry. Oh no...not only is he a doctor, he's a scientist. And I'm an intelligent life form from another planet. I'm the perfect specimen. And I'm right here in his very grasp. I have to get out. I have to.

Andrew gives me a worried look when I don't respond, but I'm stricken. He pulls over the car off on to the shoulder, not that it's busy anyway, and sighs. My stomach drops in terror. "Maren?" he asks softly.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Do you have a bad history with science and doctors?" he asks me. He must suspect it considering he realizes my body isn't normal on the inside. He must figure that I've been to doctors or scientists extensively. Maybe he even thinks that's why I ran away. My tension is almost tangible in the air as well, and he's too intuitive not to notice.

"No," I lie instantly. "No, I'm fine."

He frowns. "You're lying," he accuses me, though he's intending to be cautious.

"I'm not lying," I spit right back.

His eyes glance down at our hands. "Then why did you tense up so much? Why are you nearly trembling?" he asks me carefully.

I look at our hands in my own personal horror. I forgot that he was holding my hand... I try to pull mine away, but he doesn't let go; he knows that I want to get out of this, but he won't let me. He keeps his gaze locked on me. He's backing me into a corner again; it's the only way he knows that he can get answers out of me. I glare at him. "Is this some sort of a set up?" I ask dangerously.

He looks confused. "What?" he asks, his voice perplexed.

"Are you setting me up?" I ask again, a bit more forcefully. How could this be such a coincidence? A certified doctor and biologist finds a sick young teenager and takes her in, trying to heal her and discover who the mysterious girl really is while she's trying to hide what she truly is, an alien. All conveniently after she escaped the torturous prison she was in beforehand where they were out for her blood. It's too perfect. "You're after me too!"

Andrew looks astonished. "What on Earth are you talking about, Maren?"

"I'm talking about you setting me up!" I say angrily. "You're just another one of them, aren't you?!"

He's speechless for a second. "Maren, I really don't know what you're talking about...I...I..." He's as shocked as I am worked up. His eyes are lost, searching, clueless. Unless he's an exceptionally good liar, which thus far I don't suspect that he is, I don't think he could pull it off. He's not lying to me.

He doesn't know what I'm talking about at all. He's not lying to me. He's not with them. He's just...a human.

"I...I'm sorry..." I mutter, trying to make that sudden realization sink in. "I mean...I wasn't lying...I-I..."

Andrew stops me and he looks at me seriously but gently. "Maren..." he says, his voice a subtle warning for me not to lie again, especially now that my outburst has dug me into a deeper hole.

I start to tremble more and tears form in my eyes. I'm not weak, but right now, I feel much too vulnerable. "I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me!" I beg him, setting myself over the edge. "I'll do whatever you want for science, but please just don't hurt me!"

Andrew's eyes turn sad and he lifts the console between us. He moves closer to me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. "Shh..." he whispers. "I'm not going to do anything to you, sweetheart."

I shake my head and rest it on his chest. "They always want to...no one in the world cares about me...I don't exist..." Tears pour from my eyes, streaking my cheeks.

"Shh..." Andrew whispers again, stroking my hair and rubbing my back, trying to soothe me through my apprehension. He rocks me slowly, but I'm just terrified and sad. I just want to feel safe for once in my life...

"I care about you..." he finally whispers to me as I calm down.

I sniff. "Why?" I ask quietly, looking up at him. "You don't know anything about me..."

He looks at me with his kind, gray-blue eyes. "I know that you're scared and need someone to love you."

I nod weakly against his chest. "There's no one left to care about me..."

"That's why I'm here, sweetheart," he says quietly. "You just have to trust me." He rubs my back carefully.

"I'm so afraid to trust.." I whisper. Why does he care about me so much?

"Just try," he implores carefully, seeing my unease. "I promise that you won't be disappointed."

I nod and stay quiet for a minute, trying to calm myself down... I have to see this all through... "Why do you care about me?" I finally ask, my voice soft. "I'm nothing."

"You're scared," he says. "And alone. And nobody deserves to be alone." I wrap my shaking arms around him when he says that and he strokes my hair. Maybe he truly does just want to help me... "I care about you a lot," he says. I know he's truthful, even though he truly has no reason to care. "You're okay now."

I sigh and nod, trying to regain myself. "Thank you..." I whisper, looking down. "I...I just want to be okay."

"I know, Maren. And you will be. I'll make sure of that." He pats my back.

I try to breathe deeply. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," he says.

I sigh slowly. "Thank you."

He smiles and releases me, seeing as I'm okay now. He starts the car again and we pull off of the roadside, heading home. I breathe deeply again and feel a little bit calmer, but my arm remains invisible in my shirt. We head the rest of the way home in silence, something of an understanding now between us, and I feel almost a bit better. Only a bit...

As Andrew helps me out of the car, he and I are both cautious of my arm. "You know, maybe I should have a look at that when we get inside," he says. "I don't want you to be hurt."

"I'll be fine," I assure him as he sticks the key in the lock of the front door. "I'm sure it's nothing and it'll feel better in no time with some rest."

He frowns as we go inside. "But Maren-"

"Really, I'm fine," I assure him in a stony voice that I intend to settle the subject. "I'll be fine. I really just need rest right now. I'm too...apprehensive."  
Andrew looks at me sadly, the way he usually does when I act so distant and on edge this way. "Okay, Maren. Rest well..." he says quietly. I head to my room and hear him sigh behind me, and guilt pangs in my chest slightly. We just reached something of an agreement of trust, and he doesn't want to jeopardize that now. Neither do I.

With that, I head into my room. Maybe if I sleep, the invisibility will go away. And if it doesn't, I'll just have to make do.

It's what I always do.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, readers! Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews and feedback. :) In this chapter, I'm going to take a suggestion left in a review by ChatterboxChipmunk and write in Andrew's point of view. I believe it'll work with this part of the story with what I have planned, so I believe it's a good time to lay out Andrew's thoughts this far, so this chapter will be a little shorter. Thank you for the suggestion!**

**Another review from a Guest asked how many chapters I plan on writing. Quite honestly, I'm not sure. I plan on writing and adding chapters until the story is finished, but that's the only clear cut plan that I have...**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter, please read and review, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thanks so much! :)**

...

Andrew

I watch Maren hastily go to her room to rest and I sigh sadly. Gosh...she's just pushing me away again.

I'm concerned about her, more than ever. When I found her, sick and alone, I wanted to heal her and help her, but I never expected to become so attached to her. She needs more help than I realized, more than just help for her sickness. She's alone and scared. She has no one. But how can that be?

She says she doesn't remember where she's from, she's made no indication of family, and she doesn't even seem to have a last name that she's willing to give. What had to happen to cause her to be so alone and end up in this situation? It had to be horrible, she's just a kid. It doesn't add up, not at all. My main concern is helping her first, but it's extensively hard to help someone if you can't even understand the circumstances or the origin of their problem. I'm never going to be able to mend her if she keeps shutting me out this way. I have to get to the bottom of this. I have to get to the bottom of _her. _

She's fascinating to me. Despite whatever she has gone through, she seems to have an out-of-place resilience, one that I can't help but admire, even if that resilience is the force that's pushing me away. It's driving a wedge between the two of us. I don't know how to break through that resilience to see her vulnerability, because her vulnerability is what's going to give me answers.

I don't blame her for being so cynical, for driving that wedge between us, but her mistrust is beyond anything that I've ever seen before. She's afraid, so paranoid. But why? I've only been kind to her, I've only ever showed her that I'm trustworthy. Yet, all she does is act as if I'm going to stab her in the back. I can't make sense of it, not at all. What could have possibly happened to her that makes her want to push me away so much? I can't even imagine it.

Maren is hiding something from me, something I need to know. It's more than her past that she's hiding, it's who she is. She's not truthful to me, and I can't figure her out. There's so many gaps in who she is, so many things that just don't add up. I want to understand her, but she has to let me. And while I try to push it along, catalyzing her to tell me the truth, I want her to let me in and tell me. I don't want to drag it out of her.

Not only does she have a broken past and a mysterious self, she also has something peculiar going on inside of her that not only worries me, but it also puzzles me. Her body seems to go so much...faster. Her heart, her lungs, all of it. It's like she's built for so much more endurance than anything I've ever seen before, and it shouldn't be that way. But it...is. She seems perfectly healthy aside from her pneumonia, and her body seems to have a unique way of combatting it anyway. She's an anomaly, and it fascinates me even more, appealing to my scientific side as opposed to my empathetic side that wants the rest of her.

I can't make sense of her, not of her past, not of her mind, not of her paranoia, not of her physiological aberrations. My mind goes through the options as the doctor or scientist in me does; logically, trying to see it through for its answers. I see Maren as puzzle. My mind is trying to put the pieces together, but there are so many gaps and missing pieces that the picture isn't clear, and the only person who holds those pieces, and seems to protect them with her life to the point of extreme mistrust and attempting to escape, is Maren. And I'm just trying to coax her to give me the pieces so I can form the picture, so I can see the truth. I have to figure her out. I have to.

While logic is helping me along, science can't explain how much I've grown to care for Maren. She's the first person I've loved in a long time. I'm not even quite sure why. She's a mystery, and I know almost nothing about her. But nothing is more evident about her than her need for love. She has nobody left to love her, and I want to love her. I can give her all of the medications she needs, coax her past out of her so she can finally have some sort of release, but none of that will have a fraction of the impact that loving that child will have. And because of that, I love her. I truly love her.

And as a person who needs love too, I can only hope that one day, the feeling will be returned to me.

We just need to hold onto each other.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello, readers! I really hope you liked the last chapter in Andrew's point of view. I really enjoyed writing out his thoughts and feelings because I know exactly where I want his character to go, and I believe that was the perfect time to hear from him. Thank you so much for all of the kind reviews that you left me, I was grinning from ear to ear every time I saw a new one. :D **

**This chapter will once again be back in Six's point of view. I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Please read and review, I love to hear your thoughts, predictions, suggestions, etc. :)**

**Thank you so much for the support, I love you all! :)**

...

Six

I wake up a little while later from a sound, unneeded but much enjoyed sleep.

Only to find that my pillow is invisible.

I gasp and sit up, throwing my pillow down, which causes it to reappear. To my dismay, my hand is still invisible to my mid forearm at this point. Clutching the pillow so tightly in my invisible hand during my sleep must have made it become invisible. I guess I'll have to be careful about that too. If Andrew came in at all when I was asleep, then my cover is blown. I only have to hope that he was feeling less concerned than usual, which is unlikely. Still, I didn't wake up in a hospital or science facility, so maybe that's a good sign.

I slowly get out of bed and study myself in the mirror. I'm wearing just an over sized t-shirt to sleep, which dons my arm - or lack thereof - shamelessly. I'll have to change. I go rummaging through my bag of new clothes and pull out the blue sweatshirt. It's about a size too big, which I think is most comfortable, so it'll hide my arm well. I strip off my shirt and put that on instead, then I slide on the new yoga pants. After that, I venture out into the living room, where I suppose Andrew is, my invisible arm and hand safely tucked in my sleeve...

As I peer around the corner, I see that he's there. Things seem normal, so I guess he didn't see my hand. He's sitting on the couch, the yellow knit blanket draped over his legs and his lap. In his hand is a black picture frame, but I can't see the photo inside from where I'm standing. He's staring at the picture, a look of nostalgic, longing sadness evident on his face with hints of worry around his eyes. Although my mind is telling me that the signs of worry are for me, not the picture. I stand there for a few moments, just watching him in the quietness, but soon enough, he senses my presence and looks up.

The sight of me seems to snap him out of whatever memory or emotion the picture was bringing about, and a little bit of ease comes back to his face. "Maren," he says."You're awake. How are you feeling? How is your arm?"

"It's...okay," I sigh, emerging from around the corner. It's not actually okay, but I'm used to lying.

More concern enters his expression. "Are you sure you don't want me to have a look at it?" He doesn't want to press...

"Not right now," I tell him. "Maybe later." He nods weakly and opens one of his arms, a sign for me to sit with him on the couch. Slowly, I go over and take a seat beside him on the couch, careful of my arm. He drapes the yellow knit blanket over me too as I fold my legs under me, curling up, then wraps his arm around me, enveloping me, and he pulls me closer to him. His body is warm and so is his embrace. His embrace reminds me of Katarina's, the way she used to hold me when we watched a movie together or when she would comfort me after having a nightmare...

His embrace is full of...love. Just like Katarina's.

I rest my head against his shoulder, accepting the love. I close my eyes and feel this bliss, such a normal bliss that a lot of kids feel everyday. The gift, the privilege, of having someone love you. I hold onto him tightly, curled into him to feel that love. Does Andrew truly love me too?

He squeezes my shoulder gently and I open my eyes. For the first time, I get a good look about what's inside the picture frame. It's a picture of three people; a middle aged man that resembles Andrew, tall and broad with the same smile; a beautiful woman with honey blonde hair, high cheekbones with her smile, and beautiful gray-blue eyes; and a younger version of Andrew, unmistakably, probably in his mid teens.

"Is this your family?" I ask him quietly.

"Yes. Me, my father, and my mother," he confirms in a quiet, strained voice. Sadness.

"You look a lot like your parents," I tell him softy. I'll never know if I looked like either of my parents.

He nods slowly. "My father's smile and my mother's eyes, is what everybody told me."

Now I nod in confirmation. "They were right." I see something flash in his eyes, but it's minuscule. I only see it because I've been with him for over a month now, watching him and learning about him. It's something heavier than nostalgia, something worse. Something as heavy as...loss. I'm quiet for a few moments and so is he as we both stare at the picture. He's beginning to have that trance-like look again, and something about it makes me feel his loss too.

"Where are your parents now?" I finally as him quietly.

He takes a shaky breath before answering, but I don't think he's crying. "Dead," he says. "They're dead."

"How?" I ask him. I'm taking a risk by asking questions, but a part of me senses that he wants to talk about it. He almost wants to grieve.

He breathes out again. "My father died of cancer when I was sixteen. Pancreatic cancer," he clarifies. "He was diagnosed with Stage 4 and only lived for five months after the diagnosis. It...hit my mom and me hard." I can tell it's tough to talk about, but he wants to tell me, I believe. Some part of him wants to trust me the same way he wants me to trust him, even though I'm just a young girl.

"And...your mom?" I ask quietly, my own voice tightening with sadness.

"She...she disappeared eight years ago," he says quietly, as if the pain and sadness is progressing, which it probably is. "She disappeared without any trace at all..."

I feel empathy for him and pain creeps into my own stomach and throat as well. My parents are dead too, but I never knew them. But I did know Katarina, and she was as close to a mother as I ever had. And I watched her be tortured and killed. I know what it's like to lose someone you love.. I know that and worse.

"I...I'm sorry..." I say quietly, the sadness evident in my voice too. I've never seen Andrew so vulnerable, so sad, so...broken. To me, Andrew has always seemed well put together. But sometimes you have to break to understand what it's truly like to be mended.

"It's...it's okay..." he says quietly. "My parents were...really special to me. They inspired me." He looks at the picture longingly and swallows some of his sadness. "My dad was a doctor. He...he ignored his symptoms of cancer because of that. From everything he had seen as a doctor, he figured they were nothing to worry about, so he didn't. And it cost him." He sniffs. "He inspired me to go into medicine. And now I can help people and do great things like he did." He looks fondly at the picture of his dad, a small smile at his mouth, like he's finally remembering something good.

His eyes travel the small centimeter across the picture to his mother. "My mom...my mom was an astronomer, and one of the best in the country at that," he tells me. "She inspired me to pursue science as well, even though I chose a different sort of it. She always told me to never stop asking questions, to always wonder why. She told me she loved science so much because it explained things, and she believed there was still so much out there to learn and understand, especially in the endless realm of outer space. She studied what's in space and I study life. Together, we were a flood of knowledge." He laughs very slightly. "They raised me. They loved me. I didn't have any siblings. They were all that I had, and they were all I wanted, too. But now..." He trails off.

By the end of what he's saying, I'm nearly speechless. He had such an amazing connection to his parents, and each of them was special to him in their own way. I'm suddenly envious of that connection, having parents like that since I never truly knew mine, but my mind instantly falls back to the heartbreak that he endured losing them, and I realize that his situation may be even worse than mine. I realize I'm now hugging a pillow, seeing it as some sort of comfort, I guess.

"I...I lost my parents too..." I finally whisper. He turns his head to look at me, and I look up at him too, into his sad gray-blue eyes that match his mother's. "And my guardian."

Upon hearing this, Andrew wraps his arm around me tighter. He's focused on my grief momentarily, not his own. He's selfless that way,in the way that he cares for me. "You never told me that, Maren," he says quietly, stroking back my black hair. "Why not?"

I breathe out now too. "I...I don't know..." I say sadly. "I just..." I trail off, not knowing how to finish my sentence suitably without having to lie.

"Well," he says. "I just shared a little bit with you about my past." He rubs my shoulder. "So why don't you tell me a little bit about yours?"

My heart skips a beat and I tense slightly. I can only hope he doesn't feel it, but I'm almost certain that he does. "M-My past?" I ask him.

"Yes, Maren," he says quietly. "Your past. I don't know anything about you."

My heart starts to feel heavy. "N-No...you said you wouldn't leave me..."

He frowns. "Maren, I'm not going to leave you. I just want to know more about you."

"I knew this would happen," I say, my voice stony. "You're getting to curious for your own good."

He frowns even deeper. "Maren, what are you hiding from me?" he finally asks. "We talked about this earlier. You need to trust me. I'm not going to let you down, I promise you. I love you too much for that."

I look up at him suddenly. "You...love me?" I ask.

"Yes," he says, his voice gentle but firm, as if asserting it as fact. "I do. Very much. Which is why I want you to trust me." The sadness in his voice has turned into a small form a desperation. His eyes are sad and pleading.

I sigh and rest my chin on the pillow, thinking about his words. He loves me, despite knowing nothing about me. He wants me to trust him more than anything else. I clutch the pillow in my hands out of apprehension.

But then the pillow disappears.

I throw it down and shriek, and I hear Andrew gasp quietly beside me, tensing up. Oh no...

I just ruined everything.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello, wonderful readers! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope you're not too angry that I left you on a cliffhanger. :P I hope this chapter satisfies your suspense. :) It's a little bit shorter just because I wanted to make the moment very serious and real, not dragged out.**

**Unfortunately, I will not be updating until at least Monday, as I'm going away over the weekend. I hope you enjoy this until then!**

**Thank you so much for all of your kind reviews, I love to read them! Please read and review, your thoughts, opinions, and suggestions are all very important to me! Happy reading! :)**

...

I can't believe I just did that.

The pillow lands on the floor in front of us and I try to scramble to my feet, knowing I have to get away now. I have to. Apparently, Andrew has different ideas. He tightens his arm around me and keeps me down, and I scream in protest, kicking out my legs. His breathing is shallow beside me.

"Let me go!" I demand, trying to pull away. My strength would easily overtake his if it weren't for my sudden apprehension and my out-of-whack Legacy. My anxiety has heightened at this point, causing my whole body to now glitch in and out of invisibility. I can feel Andrew's tension. This is becoming worse by the second.

"Shh, Maren..." he says quietly, his own voice on edge, but I don't listen. I keep yelling and thrashing. "Maren, please-" He tries to reason with me as he contains me, but I'm not having it.

Then he snaps. "MAREN!" he says, loud and sharp, an intensity mixed with a fear that I've never heard erupt from him before. "Stop. Relax." I quiet down quickly, even more terrified now. My breathing is labored and I have dreadful tears in my eyes, but I stay visible for the moment. He must've figured that if he could calm me down, my Legacy would too.

Carefully, Andrew reaches out and takes my right arm, the one that's remaining invisible. I'm rigid in my muscles but trembling in fear. His hands tighten on me, as if to keep me from shaking that way. Slowly, he draws up my sleeve to my elbow where my arm becomes visible again. He marvels at it, with curiosity and dread in his eyes, as if his whole world has just been shaken. He brings his other hand down and touches my arm, cautiously and gently, with the precision of an experienced doctor or scientist alike. He's someone who is accustomed to handling the fragile. He runs his fingers up and down my forearm, on the top and underneath, making the hairs on my skin stand up straight. He consciously strokes my hand, touching each of my fingers, though he can't see any of it.

"Extraordinary..." he finally whispers. The shock, the amazement in his voice is clear and evident.

Upon his voice, I begin to break down in apprehensive cries. His hands on me tighten, and he whispers in my ear. "Shh, Maren. I won't hurt you."

"That's what they all say, and then they do!" I spit venomously, but I'm just trying to layer it over my fear. "Look, I'll leave and never, ever come back, but please, just don't tell anyone that I was here!" Terror is overtaking me. I hid for so long; Katarina and I were never found out. But no less than a month after being here with him, he finds out the truth. I've put myself in danger, and I've disgraced Lorien. This is horrible.

Nonetheless, he carefully rubs my back and turns me towards him, then he wipes my tears away. "Maren," he says quietly, looking at me gently. He looks at me the way he always has, as if nothing is unusual. "I'm not going to harm you. I'm very curious, and honestly a little bit frightened, but I won't hurt you either way. You shouldn't be harmed. You're special, and I know that."

I look up at him fully. He looks relieved, but also on edge, but I can't blame him. "You won't hurt me? You won't tell anybody that I'm here?" I ask quietly.

He shakes his head. "You're something extraordinary, I can tell. But something so extraordinary should be kept secret, don't you think?"

Surprised that he's handling this so well, I nod. He IS handling this well, almost too well. Though I can tell that he's holding back his curiosity, his fear, all of his questions and tension. He's putting on a good face for me, he's trying hard to contain himself. But he's doing it for me. He's accepting it for me.

Surprising myself, I wrap my arms around him, breathing out in relief. "Thank you..." I whisper. "Thank you so much..."

"It's okay, sweetheart..." he whispers, rubbing my back gently. "It's okay now."

I stay in his arms, in his embrace, savoring that it's okay for a moment, even if it's not.

"Please don't run away from me," he says quietly, stroking back my hair. "I know that you're lost, and alone, and afraid of exactly this, but I swear that I won't hurt you. I know that you're truly special, in more ways than I will ever understand, and I'm not going to jeopardize that."

"Thank you..." I whisper again. I look up at him. "You...you promise you won't leave me either?"

"Never," he says.

"Why?" I ask. "Why would you ever want to keep something like me around?"

"Because you're special," he answers instantly. "And not just because of this. In so many ways that you don't even realize."

I sigh sadly. "Can't you see?" I ask him. "This is why I have to run. This is why I can't trust anyone, why I run from my life, why I steal. This is why the only person who ever cared about me is dead. I should be in Hell!"

He looks almost startled, maybe realizing I'm even more disturbed than he initially thought. "No. You should be happier," he says. "You're just a kid, Maren."

"I'm not a normal kid," I retort back, almost bitterly. "I don't have a family or a home or even a name. Maren Elizabeth is the name my protector gave me. I'll never be normal."

"But you're still a kid. One who deserves love," he says softly.

I shake my head sadly. "There's no one left to give it to me." Not in my world or this one... "I'm alone."

He looks at me sadly. "No, you're not alone. Not anymore," he says. "You have me. I'm not going to leave you alone again."

I look up at him. Can this be true? Can I really stay with him, trust him...even love him? Can he truly end my loneliness? "You...promise?" I ask him, my voice soft and teary.

He holds my hand. "I promise," he replies with conviction. He squeezes my hand assuredly, solidifying what he's saying.

I look up at him, into his eyes. He looks almost relieved, but even more on edge and curious than ever. He realizes he just got the answer that he was looking for, what he's been wondering about this entire time, but it only gave him one answer. He needs so many more, and this gives more questions than it does answers. He's even more curious. And he's going to act on it inevitably now. But even as he does, the wonder behind his gaze is not overpowering. It's subtle. He's looking at me the same way he always has. We sit together in silence for a while, calming down, taking all of it in, but Andrew is the one who eventually breaks the silence.

"Maren..." he says quietly, looking at me solemnly and seriously, though rubbing my back as if to relax me. "Please...will you tell me the truth?"

I sigh shallowly, feeling my blood rush. "Yes..." I reply quietly. "I'll tell you the truth."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello, readers! I hope you're not too mad at me for another cliffhanger... Thank you so much for all of the reviews you've been leaving me. Even though a lot of them demand that I update, that makes me really happy to see because it lets me know that you're genuinely enjoying the story and want to read more. I love knowing that and seeing that, so thank you so much. :')**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm really excited about it! Please read and review, as the hearing what you think means so much to me! Thank you, I love you guys so much! :)**

...

Relief spreads across Andrew's face when I promise him the truth. It's a relief unlike anything I've ever seen before, as if a true weight will be lifted off of his shoulders. The only thing that comes close to this relief is the relief that he expressed when he realized that I was going to heal from my pneumonia, not die at his hand, even though that isn't possible with the charm.

"Thank you, Maren," he says quietly. "Thank you so much." He's grateful even before I tell him, which truly says something about what this means to him.

I nod weakly and stare at my lap, wringing my hands and fingers in nerves. I can feel Andrew's eyes boring into me, though I'm sure it's not intentional. "You...you probably have questions that you want answers to," I say quietly.

He pauses in uncertainty, as if the way I said it makes it sound like a deadly sin. "Yes, I do," he admits, a slight sign of nervousness in his voice. "But I want you to tell me anything you think I should know." He's still trying not to push the boundaries; he wants me to tell him the truth, but he only wants me to say as much as I'm comfortable with. His way of backing up slightly inclines me to trust him more, knowing that he only wants as much trust as I'm willing to give.

"I want to know you're questions," I insist, something bold for me. "It'll...help us communicate."

He slowly breathes out and looks me up and down, as if studying me or sizing me up. It sends a chill through me, but it's not bitter. "You can turn invisible" he says quietly, his eyes falling on my hand. "Why is that?"

Now it's my turn to take a breath, to finally release a piece of the truth to him. "I have powers called Legacies," I admit. "Invisibility is one of them."

"One of them?" he asks, sounding nervous again. "You mean you have more?"

"Not yet," I tell him. "But...I'll get more as I get older."

I can see the glimmer in his eyes. That information alone is startling to him. "Amazing..." he says. "You...you're truly gifted, aren't you?"

"You could say that..." I mutter. I look up at him. It's obvious that he has more questions swirling through his mind, like there's too many that he wants to ask and he's organizing, shuffling through his thoughts. On top of that, he's also being very cautious.

"And...how do you get these...Legacies?" he asks me, his tone still careful and nervous, as if every answer may scare him.

"They...they're a part of who I am," I tell him. "What I am, I should say..."

This catches his attention, and his eyes widen slightly, but he tries to prevent himself. Whatever I just said, he knows that it's big, that it's key. "Who are you, exactly?" he whispers.

This is the hardest part for me. I close my eyes and clench my fists, trying to take a deep breath and level my head. I've never admitted this to a human before, and it feels almost treasonous to do so. But I know that I have to. "I am Number Six," I tell him. "I'm a Loric." I pause, biting my lip. Oh gosh...

He frowns slightly in confusion. "A Loric?" he asks carefully. I know he's trying to give me the space that I need.

"Yes, a Loric," I respond calmly. "I'm a being from the planet Lorien." I pause and take a deep breath. "Lorien is one of the eighteen life sustaining planets in the universe. It's ten times smaller than Earth, it's the fourth planet from our sun, and it has two moons," I start explaining, telling what Katarina has taught me about Lorien since I was young. "Twenty five thousand years ago, Lorien was dying. Global warming was happening, pollution was taking over, and animals were dying out. Lots of war and conflict went on. But eventually, the Loric realized they needed to do something." I pause.

"That's when the Elders, the rulers of Lorien, discovered the Phoenix Stones. The Phoenix Stones revitalized the planet. They were the realization the Lorien is sentient." I breathe out shakily. "That's where my powers came from. Lorien blessed us with them in order to help maintain the planet. And our protectors were blessed with great intelligence." I find myself unable to meet his gaze. "Lorien is where I came from. That's why I am the way I am."

There's a long silence, but Andrew's shock is almost tangible in the air. When I finally look up at him, he's stiff, and his eyes show that his mind is going a million miles an hour. He finally looks at me too. "You mean to tell me," he says, "that you're an alien?" He doesn't sound disbelieving or skeptical; I think he realizes that the story I just told him was too sincere to be a lie, which is what I had hoped for.

Even so, fear shoots through me, spreading from my core and throughout my body like rockets, but I nod stiffly.

"That's why you have your Legacies? Why you're physiologically different than a human?" he confirms. I nod again.

He sits back against the couch, drinking in that information. "Wow..." he muses, his voice full of thought. I can't believe I just told him all of that, but I know that I had to; lying wasn't an option at this point. I can't tell quite yet if I regret it. Hopefully I'll know soon.

Andrew finally looks at me again, as if all of the information has finally settled and his world is level again. The eye contact we make signals that we're both prepared for another question. He proceeds on. "Why are you here, Maren?" he asks me. I can tell that he's afraid this one is touchy.

I sigh quietly and cringe at the thought, confirming his suspicion. "A few years ago...another alien race came to Lorien out of nowhere. They completely decimated the planet. They drained it of its resources, killed all of its people..." I gulp. "Only nine Garde, like me, made it off of Lorien in a ship with our protectors. The other race...they're coming for Earth next. That's why we're here. We have to save our planet and yours too." I clench and unclench my fists in apprehension.

"I...I see..." Andrew says, suddenly fearful. I can't blame him. "And of the nine of you...you're..."

"Number Six," I finish. He nods once, accepting the explanation of the reference of my number from earlier.

I sigh sadly. "My family, our people...they're all gone. The other race...they killed my protector. I have no one left on my planet or this one. That's why I'm so alone..." I admit quietly.

At this, a look of realization dawns on his face. He now understands why he found me alone, why I don't have a true identity, why nothing adds up about me. I don't fit into this world, and now he understands why. He actually understands.

Slowly, he pulls me closer to him again and wraps his arms around me, his embrace full of love like it always is now. "I'm so sorry, Maren," he whispers.

I wrap my arms around him too, though I tremble. "I...it's...it's not okay, but it will be one day." Because the Garde will win, and we'll go back to Lorien where we belong. Someday, we will.

"That's the spirit, kiddo." He rubs my back gently.

I nod against his shoulder and wipe my eyes. I take another deep breath and then draw away, looking at him. "Any other questions?" I ask.

His eyes wander down to my ankle. "Your scars?" he asks cautiously.

I look down at my ankle too, covered by my yoga pants. I bring my leg up and slowly draw up my pant leg, donning my two scars. He studies them with fascination. "They...they're the sign that the first two Garde are dead. We have a charm on us...a charm that says we can only be killed in our numerical order until we meet. The other race...they found One and Two. And they were killed. So we got the scars."

Andrew looks up at me. "So until Three, Four, and Five are killed...you're safe?" he confirms.

I nod. "Unless I meet another Garde."

"Where are the other Garde?" he asks.

"Somewhere on Earth. I won't know until I find them," I tell him solemnly.

He nods, understanding what I'm telling him. I can tell he's still mildly confused, but I know that much of his curiosity has been satisfied for the moment. I know I'm going to have to give him time to wrap his head around all of this, just like I'm going to need time to adapt to him knowing the truth, to trusting him. But we can do it together. That much I'm sure of.

Soon, he reaches and wraps his arms around me again. "You've been through a lot, Maren. More than I could ever imagine," he says quietly as he hugs me. "But I'm so glad you're okay. And I want to make sure you're okay too."

I'm almost speechless when he says so, but I nod. "Th-Thank you, Andrew..." I whisper. He understands. He may not understand completely, and I don't think he will for a while, but he's the first human I've ever been this close to, that I've been able to trust. And that means almost as much to me as Lorien itself. Because I'm not alone anymore. I feel like I truly exist on this planet, I feel like I finally have somebody. And that's an incredible feeling.

We finally pull away from each other. I look up at him, and I notice something, something familiar.

"You're not looking at me any differently," I point out quietly. "You're looking at me as if nothing is wrong. Why?"

He smiles very gently. "Because nothing is wrong, Maren. Nothing has changed," he says. "Yes, I just saw what you can do, and I know who you are and where you come from, but nothing has truly changed. You're still the same Maren that you have been as long as you've been here. Only now I know that you're different. And that's okay," he assures.

"It is?" I ask him.

He nods. "Of course it is," he says. "And no matter what, I still love you."

I nod and keep holding onto him, letting him hold me in his embrace. I like the feeling of being with him. He cares about me. I don't feel so alone right now.

And in that moment, it's almost as if he reads my mind.

"You don't have to be alone anymore, Maren. You're not alone," he says softly. "You have me."


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello, awesome readers! I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I've been getting a lot of requests for some action in the story. I promise that it'll be coming! You just have to wait for the right time... ;)**

**I'd like to give a shout out to Lucy Smith, who constantly asks me to update. That means a lot to me, and you also motivate me to write, so thank you! :)**

**Please keep reading and reviewing, I love to hear what you think! :)**

...

The next few days are a bit rocky and shaky, as we're both getting used to the idea of this immense amount of trust and responsibility that we've brought upon ourselves, but we're getting there. Andrew is trying to help me be more open, though I'm still resisting, and I'm trying to help him cope with the truth, which is going a lot better than the former. After a few days, when he thinks enough time has passed, he's beginning to spout off more questions to satisfy his curiosity and I'm answering them as honestly as I can manage.

The first question comes at breakfast as he sets my tea down in front of me. "Maren?" he asks.

"Yes?" I reply, sipping my tea after stirring in some sugar.

"Do you miss Lorien?" he asks me, looking into his own cup of tea as he stirs.

I set down my mug and sigh quietly. That's a complicated question...it's also one I didn't really expect. I've been expecting Andrew to be into the mechanics of it all, being an alien and the ups and downs of the war, Lorien, other extraordinary life out there, but he hasn't pressed on any of that. At least not yet. I mess with the end of the spoon for a minute before answering. "I don't know," I say softly.

He brings his gaze up to rest on me, then he raises his eyebrows. "You don't know?" he asks gently, obviously not understanding what I mean, but curious about it anyway.

I shrug. "I...I don't really remember Lorien that well. I don't remember my parents or the planet, much, just bits and pieces. I don't really know if I miss it. Earth is...pretty much all I've ever known." And they aren't really the fondest memories...

He nods slowly, now understanding. "Sometimes," he says quietly, "you don't always need to know something to miss it."

Now I'm the one who's confused. I tilt my head slightly and look at him. "What do you mean?" I ask. His gray eyes are stormy and thoughtful, as if he's about to profess something that he truly believes, that he identifies with deeply.

He sighs, but it's not exactly an unhappy side. "Lorien was your home. You may not remember it well, but it truly was your home," he says. "You can still miss it without really remembering it. You can miss it just by knowing it was your home, and knowing you don't belong here...but you know you belong on Lorien. You can miss the belongingness that you know you should have. It's a yearning that can mean missing." He pauses briefly, but I don't interrupt because I know he's not finished.

"You can miss having parents. You can miss the memories that are buried. You can miss it all," he explains to me. "And you're entitled to, too. Because for that, you have more of a reason, more of a motivation to hang on. You can win it all back, and you won't have to miss it anymore."

Hearing him say the words, I know that he's right. His wisdom floods into me, feeling a small part of the hole in my heart. "I...I guess that you're right," I tell him. "Missing it, even if I don't completely remember it...that's a reason to fight." The words sound foreign out of my mouth for some reason, like they don't belong. I'm too hard-packed sometimes to think about things like this. But in reality...maybe I should. Maybe I shouldn't numb myself to the war like I have been, coldly wanting to fight it because I know that I have to, that I'm expected to. I have something I'm missing, and I can win it back. It's a more tangible reason than the expectations I've been living under for so long.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't even realize Andrew has come next to me. He rests his hand on my back gently. "No matter what," he tells me quietly. "You will always have a home here."

I look up at him, my hazel to his gray, and then slowly hug him. "Thank you, Andrew..." I whisper. "Thank you so much..."

"It's what I'm here for, Maren," he says quietly. "I'm here for you."

...

In addition to the adjustments that we're making, I can't help but notice that Andrew keeps a more watchful eye on me than ever, hardly wanting to leave me by myself and confining me to the house unless he goes with me somewhere. I can't even go into the backyard on my own.

But today, to my relief, Andrew offers to take me on a hike. I instantly agree, feeling a need to get out of the house and have a little bit of freedom outside. When I say yes so eagerly, he smiles and tells me that we'll leave after breakfast and leaves to go make it. I get dressed quickly and go out to eat.

Two hours later, we're deep in the forests, grassy hills, and rocky slopes of the rural, naturalistic North Rock Hill, South Carolina, and I'm loving every bit of it. It reminds me of when I was younger and when I was with Katarina. The outdoors were my escape, and without any friends, nature and the false freedom that I clung to anyway were my only companions. Naturally having more endurance, I keep running past Andrew, exploring and breathing in the fresh air eagerly.

"Maren, wait up!" Andrew's voice calls for about the hundredth time. I guess I'm too far ahead of him again. Secretly, I'm trying to be ahead of him, away from him, just to feel a little bit of lone freedom. I've hated being alone since Katarina died, but Andrew is with me all the time. I almost feel...suffocated. It's one of two extremes.

"I'm still here!" I call back in assurance. Once I see him come into the treeline, carrying our backpack of water, snacks, a compass, and other things we may need, also looking rather tired trying to keep up with me I dash ahead again, eyeing up a rock wall to climb up. I run towards it and grab on, starting to boost myself up. There's a rock ledge above, and if I can reach it...

About halfway up, Andrew finally approaches. "Maren, please be careful..." he says uncertainly. He's much more concerned with my safety now. He doesn't think I can handle this.

"I'll be fine," I assure him. I keep climbing, observing and remembering where my hand and footholds are for when I come back down. After a few more minutes, I reach the ledge and climb up. I smile at the view, seeing the scattered, hilly forest floor from about twenty feet up. Even though I know Andrew is right below me, I pretend that I'm alone and free, just for a second.

I don't think Andrew wants to ruin my peace, but after a few minutes, he seems to get restless with the height that I'm at. "Maren..." he says worriedly. "Will you please come down now?"

I sigh submittingly. "Okay..." I say. I carefully make my way to the side of the ledge to climb back down the rock wall. While still hanging onto the ledge, I ease my foot onto the ledge and reach for a handhold...

But the foothold crumbles.

I gasp sharply and so does Andrew below. I jump out of the way of the rocks back onto the ledge. Loosening my foothold caused uneasiness on the whole structure, and now pieces of rock are breaking off and falling. Andrew scrambles back from the falling rocks, but he looks up wildly to see if I'm safe. I watch as the rock tumbles like a stony avalanche, causing dirt and dust to fly up when they hit the ground, destroying my layer of hand and footholds. I'm stuck.

"Maren?" Andrew calls frantically.

"I...I'm okay..." I assure him. Just a little shaken... "But...I'm stuck."

Andrew sighs and I peer over the edge at him. Twenty feet down... I guess I'll just have to jump.

Suddenly, Andrew puts up his arms. "Jump," he says. "I'll catch you."

I stare down at him, thinking it over. His face is solemn, not quite angry, but not pleased either. My stomach flips. I'm reluctant...

"Come on, honey. You can trust me," he says. I weigh my options between jumping and letting him catch me. He knows I'm afraid to trust him that much, even though I shouldn't be. After this week and telling him the truth, trust is blurry for me. I'm reluctant.

I look down at him worriedly. It's a long way down... "What if you drop me? Or you just let me fall?" How do I know he won't?

"I'm not going to let you fall, and I won't drop you," he assures me. He looks almost sad for a moment. "Sweetheart, you've been with me for over two months now. You know that I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You'll break something if you just jump."

"What if you're lying?" I accuse him.

"What if I'm not?" he counters.

"Then I'll be fine," I say. "But if you're not, then I'll get hurt."

"And if you just jump, then you'll definitely get hurt," he counters yet again.

I sigh quietly and look down. This is Andrew, not the stranger I once knew, I tell myself... I don't want to get hurt again. "You promise you'll catch me?"

He nods solemnly and opens his arms again, slowly. "I promise," he says.

I take a deep breath and look down. After a moment, I take the leap of faith and jump off of the ledge, plummeting twenty feet...

Andrew instantly catches me, wrapping his arms around me tightly and swinging me up into his arms bridal style before my legs hit the ground. He's breathing hard with adrenaline and I gasp. He sets me on my feet carefully. "There you go, sweetheart," he says quietly.

I wrap my arms around him and hold tightly. I'm so relieved that he caught me... "Thank you..." I whisper. "Thank you so much..."

"I've got you," he says quietly, rubbing my back. "I wasn't going to let anything happen to you." Somehow, I can't believe he caught me, but I know I shouldn't be surprised. He hasn't let me down yet...

"Come on," he finally says, leading me back the direction we came. "Let's get home."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi, readers! Thank you so much for continuing to read, I really hope you continue enjoying the story! :) You're all wonderful and amazing and I wish I could give you all hugs. :3**

...

When we get home, Andrew puts me right to bed.

I frown. "I don't need to sleep yet. I'm not tired," I tell him.

He tucks the covers around me. "We just went for a long hike, and you climbed to quite the great lengths. You should rest your body, it's taken a lot."

"I don't need to rest," I insist, sitting up. "I can handle it. We weren't even out for that long."

"It was long enough," he persists. "Please, just rest. It's best fr you." He looks weary. Maybe he's tired, therefore he thinks I should be too. He still doesn't understand that my endurance is greater.

"I'm not tired," I say quickly. "I'm not like you. I can handle more than you can, I have more endurance."

"Maren, please," he says. "The body is a fragile thing."

Now I'm nearly angry. "I'm not fragile anymore! My body has been through wear and tear and poison and abuse!" I snap. "I'm not fragile! I don't need to be treated like a delicate flower, because I'm not!" Andrew is keeping me very close to him, almost too close. I know he wants to protect me, but he looks at me like I might disappear in the next second. He feels he needs to protect me, but after being alone for so long, there's only so much constant company I can take. It's suffocating me.

He looks at me sadly. "It's still just a body," he says quietly.

That's when the wound hurts deeper. "You don't get it!" I snap again. "It's not just a body! It's all I have, it's all I am! I can't just let it be weak, because then they'll win!" My body has been a fortress for me since I was in the Mogadorian prison, a sort of refuge that I can't really explain. My body, myself, was all I had. I've built it, made it stronger, tested its resilience. It's more than a body to me.

"It's not weak, but it's just worn out. That's why you need to rest," he says calmly.

Now I truly do feel angry, like I'm being robbed of something that's truly mine. But I can't afford to fight right now. "Fine! Whatever!" I turn over on my other side away from him and cross my arms. Fine, I'll rest, but it won't do me any good! I don't need it! It's pointless! I hear Andrew sigh behind me and exit.

I sigh too. We just had our first fight... I didn't mean to cause conflict, but I couldn't help it. I feel frustrated over this. I tried my best to let him in, to help him understand. I trusted him with it. He's the first human to ever be close to completely understanding. But he still doesn't understand, not yet. It might be a while before that does, and I can see that even in this first week of him knowing the truth, when there are still a lot of unknowns and uncertainties as we're adapting to this, there will be hardships. I just suppose this is one of them. Misunderstandings.

I sit up in my bed and crawl over to the window, looking longingly out of it. He still doesn't let me go outside by myself because he's too afraid that I'll run away or that something will happen to me.

After that, I get out of bed and start doing what kept my sanity at the Mogadorian base; push ups. It makes the floor boards creak, and Andrew can probably hear them, but I continue anyway. I need my sanity.

Soon enough, I hear the front door open and close. I frown and stand up. Slowly and quietly, I open my door and slip out into the hallway. Andrew is nowhere to be seen... I quickly tip toe to the front window and glance out just in time to see him strolling down the road, his hands in his pockets, looking a little bit stressed and like he needs to clear his head.

My heart skips a beat. Now's my chance. I can go outside in the backyard and just feel some freedom, escape the suffocation, even for a little while. I might be in trouble when he gets back, but it'll be worth it. It'll have to be.

I quickly push open the back door and run down the back steps into the yard. I smile and take a deep breath of fresh air in my new found solitude. I smile and lay down in the grass among the wildflowers and the sunshine and relax.

I close my eyes and take it in, losing track of time after a while. A minute, ten minutes, a half an hour, an hour. I can't even distinguish it anymore. My only means of keeping time are the clouds moving above me. I eventually roll over and pick a wildflower, plucking off its petals and watching them flutter away in the breeze in specks of purple, yellow, and white. It's a natural beauty.

Andrew is probably going to be angry that I disobeyed him when he gets home, but I don't care right now. This is too free to care.

I like the carefree feeling. I like losing myself like this. It's relieving...

Eventually, I hear the gate creak open. I freeze momentarily, but then I realize it's pointless. I'm here now, and I'm not covering it up. Not now. I keep picking the white petals off of my wildflower.

Within a minute, Andrew approaches and sits down in the grass beside me. I don't look at him, but I feel his glance come to me occasionally. We're silent for a long time, and as it draws on, my guilt starts to settle in.

Eventually, I look over at him worriedly. He looks back at me and raises an eyebrow. "Beautiful day," he says. I nod in agreement but stay quiet otherwise.

I look up at the clouds and sigh quietly. "I'm sorry," I finally say.

He nods. "So am I," he says softly.

"For what?" I ask him.

He looks over at me, slight sadness behind his eyes. "For restricting you."

I sigh sadly and shrug. I guess I shouldn't be upset...I know deep down that it's because he cares and he wants to keep me safe. "I shouldn't have disobeyed you in the first place." Whether I like it or not, Andrew seems to be in charge of me now, and that's not going to change. He's not going let me leave or have freedom, and the sooner I realize that, the easier it will be for both of us. I slowly stand up to go back inside.

"Maren. Sweetheart," he says quietly, reaching up and taking my hand to stop me. "Please. Lay here, do what you'd like here in the backyard. I'll bring out some lemonade for you. How does that sound?"

His tone is kind and gentle, not angry at all. I'm taken aback, because I realize that I've been in the mindset of a prisoner again. I'm not a prisoner anymore, but lately, it feels like I am. "Okay..." I whisper. I sit back down and pick up my wildflower.

Andrew stands up and heads back into the house as he said. I watch him go and start ripping out grass pieces again, twirling them and shredding then to hold onto my sanity and this weird feeling of being allowed out here. He comes back a few minutes later and hands me a glass of lemonade. I take quick glances at him, but I always look away before he can look back. I don't know what to say, what to do...

"Are you okay, Maren?" he asks me finally.

I don't look up and nod shallowly. "I guess."

We're silent for another minute and I finally look up at him. He looks guilty. I think he realizes what he's done. He stares at me for a minute. "I'm sorry, Maren," he says quietly. "For making you feel the way you did."

I sigh. "I know you're only trying to protect me," I reply. "I know you didn't mean it. I haven't been the best house guest either..." Trying to run away and disobeying rules...

"We just have to work together," he says softly, carefully. "You behave well for someone so young who's been through so much."

I shrug. "It's not your fault what I've been through. I don't want you to feel like I'm your responsibility..." Andrew has been a blessing to me so far, but I don't want to return the favor by being a burden... He's truly making me his responsibility, and way too much at that, and it's getting to the point where I'm feeling like a prisoner again.

He looks at me. "You are my responsibility, Maren. One that I want to bear," he says quietly. "You're my world."

I look up at him. "Why?" I ask him.

"You're special," he tells me quietly. "And not just because of what you are. You're special because of your resilience, your spirit, and all of the wonderful qualities that make you unique. You've given me the simple gift of company, Maren, which is a blessing to someone who's been alone for much too long. You've given me something to care for and work for and take care of. You've given me more purpose." He finally gives me a small smile. "And Maren...I love you. I love you like my own."

My heart feels warm as he tells me this. "I...Thank you..." I whisper. I want to say I love him too, but I still don't know if I do. I don't know what love for anyone but Katarina feels like, at least not yet. But I hope that I'll learn, because Andrew is really special too. I know that I care about him, if nothing else, and I need him. He truly is a blessing to me, and I'm not going to let that slip away anymore.

He strokes my hair back. "You can go outside on your own, Maren," he tells me quietly. His stormy gray eyes look less troubled now, more relaxed and a little bit happy. It makes me happy to see. "I trust you, sweetheart. I just want you to be safe. I didn't mean to...suffocate you."

"I know you didn't," I reply quietly. "But...thank you. For protecting me."

He wraps his arms around me and pulls my close to his chest. He's warm, and his heartbeat is slow and steady, a relaxing beat. His white t-shirt is worn and soft and his dark hair is tousled from the breeze. He feels so normal and secure that I can't help but trust him.

I really do trust him.

...

Over a relaxing, resolved dinner, Andrew asks me another question.

Our dinner tonight is roast beef, mashes potatoes, and broccoli (I've found that Andrew is a wonderful cook), and as he sits down in front of his plate, he speaks up.

"Maren..." he starts quietly, picking up his fork. "Where were you before I found you?" I can see the curiosity in his eyes. He knows that I was alone and that my protector died, and he can see the damage and the trauma that I've been through, even if I try to cover it with a hard resolve. I guess I truly am letting my guard down to him. But as I lower my guard to him, it's climbing higher for everyone else. I can feel it inside of me. Opening one door and slamming the rest shut.

"I was in a Mogadorian prison," I tell him quietly, pushing piece of roast beef through a pool of gravy on my plate. "I've been there since my protector was killed. They...they killed her right in front of me. And then they tried to kill me."

"But the charm protected you?" he asks gently. I can see the sympathy in his eyes over my agonizing loss of Katarina.

I look up slowly and nod, surprised that he remembered that. "Yeah," I said. "They tried everything they could to kill me...weapons, poison, electrocution, starving me to death...none of it worked. It always went back on whoever was trying to kill me."

He looks fascinated by this. "Wow..." he muses. "And it will stay that way until you meet the other Garde?"

I nod again. I feel a slight exhilaration that he's recalling all of this, putting it together, and I can talk about it freely with him. I've never had that luxury, save with Katarina, but she never really liked to talk about it much anyway, even though I wanted to. She just told me what I needed to know. She was too paranoid, but I know that they don't know that I'm here. I feel safe.

"I almost went insane being alone by myself for so long, knowing that there was no one left to care about me," I tell him. "No one even knew I existed. And that was hard to deal with." I pause and take a bite of food, trying to keep myself out of the horrid memories. "I stayed sane by doing push ups and meditating everyday. It helped..."

He nods slowly. He doesn't have to say anything, and I think he knows that; listening is enough when I've had to keep this all in. We both continue eating as we talk, letting the conversation flow as necessary.

"When I developed my first Legacy, invisibility, is when I was finally able to get out," I explain. "I waited until they opened my cell door to see that I was gone, and then I snuck out. But...I didn't leave the facility without killing my protector's executioner first." I look down, ashamed yet secretly proud of my blood thirst. "I had to avenge her. And I did."

I glance up at Andrew and see him nodding, considering all of this. I think he finds it to be something to consider, but it doesn't change anything to him. I'm still just Maren, Maren that he loves. "It was deserved after the wrong he did to you," he finally says. I nod in agreement.

"Were you out of the prison for a while before I found you?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Not really. A couple weeks, maybe," I reply. "I honestly lost track of time. I was just worried about putting distance between me and the base. And I made it all the way down here when you found me."

"Where was the base?"

"West Virginia," I tell him. "They have no trace of me anymore. They don't know where I am." I'm confident in that too.

He smiles gently at me, yet sadly. "Well, I'm glad you're safe now," he says softly. He doesn't need to say more; I know that he listens, that he understands.

"Yeah," I say quietly. "Me too..."

I breathe out. I was able to tell him of that experience.

I really do trust him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi, readers!I hope you enjoy this next chapter, I'm sorry for the long wait! Please read and review, I love to hear your thoughts, suggestions, and predictions! Thank you to all of my steadfast reviewers, you mean so much to me!**

**To those of you who are requesting action, PLEASE be patient, because I'm trying to work that in, but I'm not ignoring your suggestions. I hope that doesn't lessen your interest for the story. My purpose of this story was not to make it completely action-packed; It's supposed to fill in the gaps and focus on the emotion and development of Six's character, and how she copes and recovers during her time before meeting the other Garde. I'll try to put in some action where it's appropriate, but know that I do have some ideas.**

**To those of you who also ask me to update often, while I do appreciate it, I can only update as fast as my inspiration for the story allows me too. Thank you for your enthusiasm, but know that I'm doing my best. **

**On with the story!**

...

After a few more days of happy monotony, I wake up to a feeling of immense sadness that I can't quite place. It's heavy and draining and persistent...like it's engrained into me. But then I realize it when I look at the calendar.

It's the anniversary of Katarina's death.

Tears form in my eyes and I remember it all so clearly. I try to push the memory away, though. I still remember the date of it because keeping track of the days in the Mog prison was how I kept my sanity at first until I reverted to push ups and meditating. After months of being in the prison and a few months of being with Andrew, I guess the time has blurred together and it's already been a year.

Which means my fourteenth birthday has also passed.

What kind of a life do I lead this way? No identity, no place to go, the only purpose is to fight in this war. Maybe I'm truly nothing.

Eventually, Andrew comes out for breakfast and he sees me looking sad. "Maren?" he asks, coming over to me. "What's wrong?"

I sniffle and point at the calendar with a shaking hand. "M-My protector..." I tell him quietly. "She...She died on this day a year ago."

Andrew's face becomes sad. He comes closer and embraces me, to which I embrace him back. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart...I know that it's rough." I realize that most people would say that out of sympathy, but coming from Andrew, he means it. He lost his father, and his mother disappeared without a trace, most likely kidnapped or killed...he knows what it's like.

He strokes back my hair. "I have a surprise for you today, Maren. Do you think you'll be up for that?" he asks me quietly.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"Well, it's a surprise," he says. "But I think it will help you feel better."

I consider it for a moment, but then I nod slowly. What do I have to lose? "Okay..." I reply. "That's okay."

"Good," he says with a smile. "After breakfast, pack your things and get in the truck. We're going on a trip."

So right after breakfast, I pack my things, strictly following the list that Andrew gave me, load up the truck, and climb in the passenger seat.

"So where are we going?" I ask him as I buckle my seatbelt and we pull out of the driveway.

He looks as if he's trying to hold back a smile. "I told you, it's a surprise," he says, holding back his obvious glee.

I pout. "Did I ever mention I hate surprises?" I ask him. He just chuckles at me and shakes his head. "How long will it take to get there?" I ask him.

"About an hour," he tells me. "Just be patient."

"Will I like it?"

"I hope so."

"Is it an outdoor place?"

"Yes."

"Are we hiking?"

"Not really."

"Which direction is it in?"

"What is this, Maren, twenty questions?"

I chuckle a little despite my sadness. "Maybe."

He rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling. "You'll just have to wait and see," he teases.

I sigh out in mock annoyance, but I'm smiling too. "Fine..."

He chuckles again. I rest my head back, and I drift off to sleep to pass the time, trying to block out sad thoughts of Katarina and balance my happiness with Andrew...

...

"Psst."

I'm being shaken and I slowly open my eyes. Sunlight greets me and I squint. Soon, the light gives way to Andrew's smiling face.

"We're here," he tells me, beaming.

I blink a few times and rub my eyes. I peer out the truck door and smile. "The beach!" I say excitedly.

He chuckles and helps me out of the car. "Good surprise?" he asks me.

I nod happily. "I...I've never been to the beach before." Katarina never liked living near the beach because it made her feel too closed in. She liked to have an escape route in every direction. This is a first for me.

He looks surprised. "Really?" he asks as he opens the back door, taking out the chairs and towels that I didn't realize he had.

"Yeah," I reply with a nod.

He smiles and hands me a towel. "Then I'm glad to have the honor," he says. I smile back at him.

After another few minutes, we've hauled our towels, chairs, bags and cooler down onto the beach at the spot we chose. We have a nice big blanket laid out, and it's a really nice day. We're the only people on the beach.

"Where is everyone?" I ask him. It's too nice of a day for no one at all to be on the beach.

"We're right in between two beach towns," he explains to me, looking out over the waves. "Everyone stays in town and then gets on the beach close to where they stay. But no one comes here because it's the in between zone." He winks at me. "You learn the tricks of the trade after living here for so long."

I smile gently. "So are we going to a beach town to sleep?" I ask him.

"Nope," he says, then he smiles mischievously again. "We're camping out here tonight."

My eyes widen and I smile wider. "Really?" I ask. That sounds so wonderful...

He nods. "Absolutely."

I keep grinning and peer back out over the water. It's quiet and serene, and the waves are rolling rhythmically, as if God is gently pushing them over Himself. It's peaceful...

"Hey, Andrew?" I ask him after a while in silence.

"Yeah, kiddo?" he replies. He doesn't look at me, and his voice sounds far away and dreamy. He's enjoying the serenity too.

"Is this like...a vacation?" I ask him.

He smiles a bit. "I guess you could say that," he says.

I smile to myself again. I've never been on a vacation either...

Andrew, to me, is an endless amount of firsts that I thought I'd never have. Even as I feel sadness over the loss of Katarina, I smile at the firsts I'm having with Andrew.

...

When night finally falls, we set up our tent on the beach. My day has been relaxing, but weighed with sadness as well. I can't seem to shake it, no matter how much I want to. I don't know if it will last until tomorrow. I hope not, because it's taxing, exhausting without even having to do anything.

Andrew set up another blanket outside of the tent so we can look up at the stars. We're laying on it together, quiet but relaxed.

Andrew points up at a group of stars, tracing the air with his finger. "That's Orion," he tells me. "And the three stars in the middle are Orion's Belt." I recognize the constellation that he's talking about and trace the stars together.

Andrew moves his finger slightly. "And there's the Big Dipper," he says, smiling. I look over at him, just watching him smile at the stars, until he notices. He looks a little bit sheepish. "I used to stargaze with my mom all the time," he tells me, fond of the memory. "She taught me all of the constellations. It gives me good memories of her, thinking about it..."

I nod gently, understanding. I peer back up at the night sky. I scan the stars, looking for a particular one. I find it, slightly west of the Orion constellation. It's small and doesn't blaze brightly, but it still stands out to me. "That's Lorien," I tell him, pointing to it. "Right there."

Andrew sees it, and he recognizes it somehow. "Really?" he asks me quietly.

I nod. "Katarina taught me where it was when we lived in Nova Scotia..." I tell him quietly. "When it wasn't icy, we'd bundle up in our coats and blankets and lay out on our roof and star gaze together. So she taught me where home truly was." The memory brings a sad smile to my face.

Andrew sees this and smiles sadly too. "My mom told me that was a special star. She said it was small, and far away, and that even though it didn't shine so brightly, one day, it would again." He sighs quietly. "She told me that only a short while before she disappeared..."

Wow... His mom recognized Lorien. She even showed it to Andrew, saw it as a star that would one day come back to life.

A lump forms in my throat as I realize something. Before she disappeared... "Andrew," I say quietly. "H-How long ago did she disappear?"

He shrugs a little. "About eight years ago..." he says quietly. "Why?" he asks me.

I feel the color draining from my face. "I...I think I know what happened to your mom," I tell him quietly.

Andrew is silent for a minute and then he sits up, looking down at me with a stony expression. "What are you talking about, Maren?" he asks me.

I sigh quietly. "Your...your mom. I..." I struggle for the words. "I think she was a greeter," I tell him quietly.

"A greeter?" he asks me.

I nod. "A...A greeter for our ship. From Lorien." It makes perfect sense. She was a prestigious astronomer, most knowledgeable in her field. She helped us get onto Earth, showed us the ropes, and helped us integrate. And then the Mogadorians found her short after and got her without a trace. But before they could, she passed on a vague hope of Lorien to her optimistic son in the form of science, the common ground they both share. It's all coming together now.

"She...She knew about you?" he asks quietly.

"I...I think she did," I say quietly. "She might've been one of the greeters that helped us integrate to Earth society. She would be perfect to do so, with her knowledge and open mindedness that you described... But..." I trail off momentarily until I can find the words to tell him. "But...the Mogadorians...the other alien race that's hunting me. They probably found her and...and..." I truly drop off this time. He nods quietly, understanding.

"I'm so sorry, Andrew..." I whisper. "I'm so sorry..." Oh no...what if he hates me now? It's my fault that his mom is gone... What if he wants to cast me away now?

But still, to my surprise, he hugs me. He never ceases to amaze me with his love and kindness... "It's okay, Maren," he whispers. "She died for something far greater than myself..."

"But she was still your mother. And she was still lost to a fight that was never hers," I say sadly. "And for that I'm sorry..." I whisper. It hurts. I know it does. I know it truly stings.

"It's okay, Maren," he says quietly. "It's okay now..." He hugs me tighter.

And for the rest of the night, we talk about the good times we had, me with Katarina and him with his mother. I tell him about the places we lived, about our favorite restaurants in Mexico and Nova Scotia, and how we always played Shadow to help me train. He tells me about the museums they visited, the hiking trails they liked, and all of their favorite family camping spots. It's hard for us to talk about, but it's good for us too.

We eventually talk ourselves out and retire to our sleeping bags for the night. As Andrew puts out the lantern and I lay my head on my pillow, I hear him whisper, "You know, Maren, you shouldn't cry because it's over. You should smile because it happened."

I take that in for just a moment. As I close my eyes, I whisper back, "I will."


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello! I'm so sorry for the long overdue update, I've been on vacation all week! I'm still on vacation, but now I have more time and more access to a computer to be able to write, so I'm hoping to keep updating! However, school will be starting soon, so that might put delays between updates as well. I'm sorry. :(**

**Thank you so much for sticking with me, though! I hope you're enjoying the story Please read and review, I love to hear your thoughts. And if you really enjoy the story, please favorite if you like it that much, as it helps me know if you really love it. :) Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing, it's so encouraging to see! :)**

...

After a few more days away at the beach, the sinking sadness starts to lift itself. As Andrew told me, I'm beginning to smile because it happened instead of crying because it's over. He's helping me a lot. I can't imagine how much worse off I would be if I didn't have him.

When we finally head home, I feel okay. Depression has turned to nostalgia, sadness has hopefulness, and loneliness has turned to company now that I'm letting Andrew in. As we drive home, I feel okay. It's the first time I've felt okay in a really long time.

The drive is mostly quiet between us, but Andrew breaks it. "Are you okay, Maren?" he asks me carefully. He asks me that lot, and usually I shrug.

But not this time.

"Yeah," I tell him honestly. "I'm okay."

...

A day after we get home, Andrew tells me that I should have a day to myself, going out for a hike and exploring the woods for a few hours, just to clear my head and keep me active.

Needless to say I'm surprised by this proposal. "I thought you didn't like it when I was out on my own." I know he allows me to, but he doesn't particularly love the idea.

He smiles, almost sadly. "I just don't want anything to happen to you," he says gently. "But I trust you, sweetheart. I trust that you'll be okay, have a good time, and that I'll see you when you come home."

"Really?" I ask quietly. A whole day to myself? I love Andrew's company, but I know that I could use some space every now and again as well.

He nods. "You're thirteen, Maren, and very mature. I trust your judgement."

That dazes me for a second. "Fourteen..." I say quietly.

Andrew furrows his brow. "What?" he asks.

"Fourteen," I tell him. "I'm fourteen years old."

He frowns. "You were thirteen when I found you. Did your birthday pass?" he asks.

I nod smally. "At least I think it did..." I say quietly, staring at my feet. "I don't know when my real birthday is, so Katarina and I just picked a day to celebrate it every year, but I lost track of the days after a while." I don't even remember the day we celebrated now... "I know I was thirteen when she died, and since it's been a year...I'm fourteen now."

He nods slowly, taking in this new bit of information. "I see..." he says quietly. He rubs my back. "Well, how about it? Do you want to have a day?"

I smile and nod. "Yeah, I would."

He smiles back. "Good."

And with that, he goes and packs me a lunch, brings me my hiking boots that he bought for me, and packs water and other supplies in a backpack for me. He hands it to me with a smile and sends me off within the hour. I trot down into the backyard a few hundred yards and delve into the woods, starting my own day-long adventure.

...

For an hour or two (maybe more, or even less; time seems to escape me), I just walk, going deeper into the trees as leaves crunch under my feet and rock formations cast shadows over me as I walk. There's never a break in the trees either as far as I walk.

The forest is quiet, only my footsteps and the melodic singing of birds providing any sound. I see them flutter from tree to tree, and even they seem peaceful this far out, as if they know that no one can find them here. I feel the same way.

...

I eventually come to some rocky cliffs near the water. Clear creek water cascades down one side of the formation in a white-water waterfall. The sound as it hits the water is heavy yet also gentle, being the only true source of constant movement out here, as if the flow keeps the peace. Long grass and cattails grow near the bank and smooth rocks line the bottom of the creek. It's a beautiful scene.

Now knowing my careful limitations, I climb up one of the rock formations and sit on the edge, viewing the scene from up high. Everything below looks small. Patches of color point out the wildflowers and small hollows in the ground are clearly animal homes. There are already some dead leaves on the ground even though it's not quite fall, but it adds to the uniqueness of the forest. Trees tower, shrubs sit, and flowers bloom, all working in perfect harmony together.

After a while, in the extreme silence, a family of deer slowly come by, cautious yet nimble in their footing. There's a mother deer and her three babies. They step close to the water and take a drink from the creek. One of the babies stumbles on its new legs, but the mother gently nudges him to stand again. The family makes my heart melt.

I wonder what my family back on Lorien was like. I'll never truly know. My family is Andrew now.

I sit for a few more minutes and watch the deer wander off, just breathing in the remarkable scene.

...

I finally head back home at about five o'clock, judging by the sun's position in the sky. I ate my sandwich, drank my water, hiked far and wide, and am satisfied with my day's exploration. I feel free, at peace now, my head clear and happy that I'm active and moving.

After a long walk back through the forest, I arrive back at our house. I knock carefully on the back door for good measure, then slowly inch my way inside. "Andrew?" I call quietly.

I find him in the kitchen, making tea. "Hey, sweetheart," he says. He's all smiles, especially upon seeing me. "How was your hike?"

"It was great," I tell him. "I just walked for a while, ate my sandwich, and then I found a really nice creek. I even saw a family of deer." I smile too.

"That sounds great," he says kindly, handing me a mug of tea. I sip it gently.

"It was," I agree. "What have you been doing all day long?"

At this, his smile grows wider. "Let me show you." He offers me his hand.

Curious, I take his hand and follow him. He leads me down the hall, and we stop outside of the room where he keeps his science and medical equipment. I recoil a bit, fearful. "I...I don't want to go in there," I tell him.

He gently pulls me forward. "Yes, you do," he assures me.

"No," I say again, then pull away. I'm hit with the intense fear that he's taking me in there to study me for the specimen that I am, that the scientific urge has won, and he's truly going to do away with me after all.

He looks at me sadly, but there's a pleading desperation behind his eyes. "Maren. Please," he implores. He offers me his hand again. "Trust me."

I'm scared, but then I look at him. This is Andrew. Andrew wouldn't hurt me. I know that now for certain.

Slowly, I take his hand. "Okay..." I say quietly.

He gently guides me forward again, and I comply this time. He slowly pushes open the door, and he flips on the light switch.

The room lights up, and it's not the room I feared at all. Inside the quaint room is a twin sized bed with a cream colored blanket on it. The walls are a pale green and there are two windows against the wall opposite the door, and a white closet door in the other. There's a table next to the bed with a lamp on it, a wooden dresser, a small desk, and a bookshelf, which only has a couple books in them. The books he's bought me.

"What...what is this?" I ask him.

"This," he says, grinning from ear to ear, "is your room, Maren," he tells me.

"My room?" I ask him in disbelief.

"Yes," he says. He chuckles gently. "I figured you'd want your own space instead of always sleeping in my bed while I'm on the couch or vice versa. Besides..." he says quietly. "This is your home now. I want you to feel like you're at home."

I look around the room. It's quaint and modest sized, nothing fancy. I like it that way. I gently walk over and sit on the bed. I run my hands over the cream colored blanket. It's soft. I look up at Andrew. "But what about your experiments and your equipment?" I ask him.

"I moved it to the attic," he says. "There's enough space up there for it, and you're more important to me than any of those things anyway. I want you to be comfortable and happy and safe."

"And...it's all mine?" I ask him, still in disbelief.

He grins again and nods. "It's all yours." He chuckles gently. "That's why I wanted you out of the house today. So I could bring everything in and make it a surprise for you."

I smile at him, get to my feet quickly, and hug him. "It's amazing," I whisper. "Thank you so much..."

He hugs me carefully. "You're welcome, Maren. You deserve it." He kisses the top of my head. "Welcome home."

"Thank you," I say quietly. "I know that I'm home."

He lets me go and I walk around my room again, exploring. My clothes are neatly folded in my drawers and my books are arranged on the bookshelf, but there's plenty of room for more. My journal and a pen are on the table next to my bed, and there's even a drawing book in the drawer of my desk. It's not much, but it's mine. And I'm okay with that.

There's something on the desk I didn't notice before, somehow; it's a chocolate cupcake with vanilla icing with a red and white striped candle stuck in it. I look up at Andrew. "What's that?" I ask him.

He smiles again. Out of his pocket, he pulls a box of matches. He strikes one and then lights the candle. "It's a cupcake," he says, still smiling. "Happy birthday, Maren."

My heart is so warmed by this gesture, by the love and care he put into it, that I hug him tightly again. He smiles and hugs me, but then he turns me towards the candle. "Make a wish!" he tells me.

I smile and turn towards the candle. I close my eyes, wish really hard, and the blow out the candle. It goes out, and then the room smells faintly of smoke.

Andrew claps lightly. "What did you wish for?" he asks me.

"I can't tell you, because then it won't come true," I tell him with a teasing smile.

He chuckles gently and plucks the candle out of the cupcake so I can eat it. "Okay, fair enough." I smile and pick up the cupcake, peeling the paper then eating it, all smiles still.

I wished that this would last forever.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi, readers! Thank you for continuing to read. :)**

**I have a few ideas for the story in mind right now, and I just wanted to assure that training and action will both be coming now that I've thought the story out a bit more. I hope that has you looking forward to it!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter, please read and review, I love hearing what you think. :)**

...

The next day, I wake up like any other day and eat breakfast with Andrew. He tells me that we're going to be doing something new today.

"New? What do you mean?" I ask him curiously.

"You'll see," he says slyly. He has tendency to enjoy surprising me and catching me off guard. It certainly keeps me on my toes. "Go put on shorts and a t-shirt and your sneakers, then come out in the backyard."

A little wary, I comply. I go into my new room and throw on a black t-shirt and gray sweat shorts, then lace up my athletic sneakers that I sometimes use when we just walk in the woods. I look down at my ankle and feel a tug at my heart and a churn in my stomach when I see the scars. Two of us are dead. Seven of us are left. I don't know where the other Garde are. Are they looking for me? Are they hiding out somewhere, safe and sound with their Cepans, while mine is dead? It's a conflicting thought. Do they even care about me at all? Where are they?

Trying to archive the thought and swallow the lump in my throat, I throw my hair into a pony tail then head outside to meet Andrew.

Andrew is already waiting in the backyard, wearing his own t-shirt, athletic shorts, and sports sneakers. There's several bottle of cold water sitting on the bottom step. Strewn around the yard, there's a jump rope and several hurtles made out of sticks from the woods. I walk down in front of Andrew, who has his hands on his hips and with a stopwatch around his wrist and looks quite pleased with himself.

"What are we doing?" I ask him when I stop in front of him.

"We," he tells me, still grinning, "are training."

Training. I almost forgot about training. "Training?" I ask him. "You mean...?"

He nods. "Training you. Preparing you for what's ahead," he tells me. He smirks slightly, trying to make light of the situation. "You didn't think I was going to let you charge into battle without the proper preparation, did you?"

At that, I can't help but grin. "Okay. Let's train."

His grin becomes even wider. We walk out front and down the street a little bit to a bike path that Andrew showed me a few weeks ago. It loops into a circle, each end attached to the ends of our street. The path is a half mile long.

Andrew clicks on the stop watch. "Two laps. Go," he orders me.

I don't hesitate to comply.

Before I know it, I'm blazing down the trail, running as fast as I can. I'm a little out of practice, but that doesn't stop me. I forgot the rush that training has always given me, that I've always savored and craved. I grin madly and keep running. Running, running, running.

I'm training again. I'm training for Lorien again.

I haven't felt this alive and loved in such a long time.

...

Andrew and I stay out training until dusk.

The day is consumed by many different feats. After running, we do basic calisthenics. I surprise Andrew by how many push ups I can do, but I don't mention that I'm still out of practice and can do much better. I jump rope for five minutes off and on, jump the hurtles, and even dive underneath of them to work my agility.

We work my powers too. I try to stay invisible for extended periods of time while doing my exercises, just testing myself out. It's not the best, but Andrew assures that I'll improve. We go into the woods and I try breaking off branches with my telekinesis.

I even teach Andrew how to play Shadow. We go for rounds at a time together, and it makes me happy. There's a yearning nostalgia to it too, and it makes me miss Katarina. But even though I miss her, I'm so glad I have Andrew now. I know she would be too.

Training again fills me with adrenaline and excitement. I haven't felt this way in a long time. By the time the day is finished, I'm still grinning and Andrew is worn out.

We each take one of the last bottles of water, and he wraps his arms around my shoulders as he chugs it down, out of breath. "You did amazing today, kiddo," he tells me as we head inside. "You could go for longer, couldn't you?"

I grin even wider. "I could go forever."

He chuckles weakly and smiles at me. "I bet you could."

I laugh too as we go inside. We both go change our clothes, but I can tell Andrew is nearly exhausted. I let him collapse on the couch to take a breather. Instead of taking my own rest, I head into the kitchen and make us some seasoned rice and beans for dinner, a simple dinner that I can manage. I pour us each a glass of our favorite rasberry iced tea, then I bring him a plate where he sits in the living room. He seems pleasantly surprised, but I just smile and sit next to him with my own plate. I cover our laps with the yellow knit blanket and flip on an action movie. Andrew smiles, and I smile too.

It's a good night.

...

The next few months pass in a blur of training, seasons, and simple living with Andrew.

He keeps me training almost every day, and he tells me that I'm getting better each day. I run more, lift more, and my Legacies improve. I can stay invisible for almost a whole training session, and I move from breaking branches in the woods to uprooting entire trees. It makes me giddy. Andrew teaches me how to utilize my body more effectively, as his knowledge of the body and its functions are extensive. It really helps, and it truly makes a difference.

At the end of each day of training, we go back inside with his arm around me, and he always tells me, "I'm proud of you, Maren."

It always makes me smile.

Over the days, weeks, and months, I can feel myself getting stronger. I feel more ready, like I can take on anything that a Mog throws at me. I feel like I could crush them beneath my hands. I feel ready for battle, ready for a fight, ready to win.

Ready for revenge.

The seasons change, too, summer fading into autumn, then winter, and now to spring. During the fall, the leaves change color and the weather gets slightly cooler. The colorful trees make for beautiful hikes through the forest and bring much more bearable weather for climbing rock overhangs. Andrew and I make campfires some nights in the backyard, roasting marshmallows and telling each other stories, some about our past and some that we just plain make up. It's special to us.

Fall turns to winter, but snow rarely covers the ground down here in South Carolina. It's beautiful outside when there is snow, glistening on the thin branches with gentle layers over everything. On one snowy day, Andrew and I venture into the woods, all bundled up, and I take him to the place with the peaceful river and tall rocky overhang that I found when he was creating my room. It's a much different scene from when I originally found it; all of the trees and bushes are bare, the cattails are dead, the rocks look a duller gray, and there's a thin layer of murky ice over the creek. Still, it's just as beautiful as it was before, just a transformed beauty. It makes Andrew smile, at least.

We train through the winter, but not as often. We spend more time inside reading books, watching action movies, and making home made hot chocolate on the stove. My bookshelf starts to collect more books. I've already filled up a journal and have started a new one. A couple forgotten empty hot chocolate mugs sit on my desk. There's even a stuffed moose on my bed that reminded me of the ones Katarina and I would see outside our windows in our rural Nova Scotian cabin. My room starts to look more lived in, more like a true home, as time goes on.

Winter eventually turns to spring, the gloom clearing, the temperature, rising, and the flowers blooming.

I almost forget about the war for a while. Despite my training and growing strength, it seems to evade my thoughts often. I feel as if I'm home. I don't need to go anywhere, I'm safe. I know it's not true, but I convince myself of it for a while.

It's a good existence. For now, anyway.


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello! I'm sorry the chapters are becoming spaced out. School is starting and I'm trying to balance everything now. Updates may be spaced, but I promise I will not abandon this story under any circumstances. The end is within sight for my ideas, and I know where I want to go with it. I really hope you enjoy it! :)**

**To all of those still questioning; I WILL be including action, I WILL be including he third scar, and this WILL go until she meets John. **

**Thank you so much for reading. Please review, your thoughts and opinions are important to me. :)**

...

The spring mostly passes without much event. Spring in South Carolina is beautiful; the greenery comes back to life, the rocks regain the sunshining gleam, and the wildflowers bloom again, covering the landscape in purple, white, and yellow all over again. They're fresh, too, not nearly wilted and parched like mid summer when I arrived. The beauty is breathtaking, and Andrew takes me hiking to the best spots to see it.

Towards the end of spring, Andrew and I are hiking through the backwoods, stomping out a trail and sightseeing, hoping to see deer or bright colored birds or anything else breathtaking that we might stumble upon. We've been unlucky so far, but we're having a great time anyway.

Andrew eventually stops and sits down on a rock, wiping his forehead of sweat. I frown. "What's wrong?" I ask him.

He looks up at me for a second and chuckles dryly. "I can't keep up with you sometimes, kiddo." He waves his hand as he takes a sip of his water."Go a little bit ahead while I rest for a minute. I'll catch up with you in a few."

I hesitate. I hate to leave him behind. but I'm eager to keep moving. I feel like we're going to see something, something amazing, really soon, and I don't want to miss it or let it get away. He can catch up if I find it...

"Okay," I agree finally. "But don't be too long. I won't go too far ahead." He smiles gently, the way he always does, and nods me on, and I proceed.

I keep walking through, pushing aside bushes and branches with my telekinesis to form a path for myself, and for Andrew to see when he catches up to me. I've only been walking for two or three minutes, not far ahead of Andrew, when I see it.

Sitting on a log, about eight feet in front of me, is a scrawny raccoon. I freeze in place, not wanting to scare him off, but he catches sight of me. I momentarily panic, afraid he may attack me or run off, but he seems unconcerned with my presence. He sniffs the air curiously and stands on his hind legs. His fur is a little matted and dirty, but he seems content enough. I've never seen a raccoon before, much less one accustomed to people, especially in these deserted backwoods.

Suddenly, I hear a sound from above. Very slowly, I glance towards the sky, gently brushing my black hair out of my eyes. Above me, a hawk is circling, and slowly coming closer to the ground. It makes a lot of noise, and before I know it, it's diving straight down. My eyes widen and I duck, covering my head, afraid it will attack me.

But it doesn't. Instead, it lands right next to the scrawny raccoon on the rotten log, side by side in perfect harmony. Neither the bird nor the raccoon seem alarmed by the other's presence. It baffles me momentarily, and I just watch them peacefully for a minute.

They're fairly uninteresting at first. The raccoon claws at the dead wood, pulling up a piece of bark that he plays with in his hands, and the hawk preens himself, pulling out matted feathers from under his wings. They're the oddest couple I've ever seen.

They become even more odd once they shape shift.

Before my eyes, the raccoon shrinks down into a small brown squirrel. At the same time, the hawk shrinks down into a chameleon and jumps onto his companion's tail, his color changing to the same light brown. The squirrel hops off of the log, scurries towards a nut as the chameleon clings to him, and then returns to the log with his prize. He pries the nut apart and eats its contents as the chameleon wanders off of his tail, then they both promptly shift back to their original forms. My eyes widen.

My mind hardly registers this for a moment, and I just stare in amazement. The animals don't seem to take notice to this either. I try to explain this to myself, or snap myself out of some hallucination, but then I remember something that Katarina told me about Lorien shortly before we were captured. Once the Elders revitalized Lorien with the Phoenix Stones, not only did Lorien bless the Garde with their Legacies and the Cepans with their intelligence, but it also blessed us with the Chimaerae; amazing shape shifting animals that could become any animal in existence, even animals not in existence.

These two animals are Chimaerae.

But how? How did they get here? We didn't have any Chimaerae on the ship...did we?

I'm stunned even more now, but at this realization, I venture a couple feet closer to them, hoping my Loric blood wins their favor. "Hello..." I say soothingly, quietly. They look at me curiously. I take another step closer and outstretch my hand to the raccoon Chimaera. "Good Chimaera," I croon as I approach, being sure my shoulders aren't squared towards them threataningly. "Good Chimaera..."

I'm close enough to the raccoon for him to sniff my hand. His nose is soft and wet, but he's really cute. He must decide that I'm not a threat, because he doesn't bite me or even growl. Wow...

The hawk leans over and pecks my hand, but not painfully. I rub the spot and smile at the two animals. Amazing... Other Loric beings right here in front of me. It's amazing, and almost surreal. I peer down at my ankle. The only Loric beings I've ever known or experienced are the two Garde whose scars have long burned into my leg. Their existence is only truly tangible to me because now they're dead, and it has left a mark on me in turn. But now, there are two Chimaerae in front of me.

Slowly, I sit down in the rotted log next to the raccoon. He doesn't seem to mind. I gently pet his back and he chatters happily. The hawk squawks, obviously feeling a little jealous. I chuckle and gently brush his sleek wings. This is incredible.

I sit there for another minute or so, admiring the Chimaera. They shift once or twice, for necessary reasons like the hawk becoming a more reasonably sized robin to snag a worm from the forest floor. Despite those showings, they seem to prefer their normal raccoon and hawk states. That's fine by me.

I realize that Andrew is still back there somewhere, and I have to tell him about this. He has to see the Chimaerae. Maybe it will help him understand Lorien even just a little bit better. He's been the first human to ever be close to understanding, but he still doesn't know everything, and he still has his doubts. Showing him a Chimaera would be perfect.

I carefully stand up, not wanting the dead log to crumble under my new friends. I look at the two Chimaerae, who look at me back. "I'll be right back," I tell them, though I doubt they can understand me without some kind of animal telepathy. I head back towards the telekinetic-formed path that I made to go back to Andrew. Before I go through the bushes, I briefly glance back at the two Chimaerae, who are still sitting. I nod for my own assurance and go on.

Once I'm a safe distance away, I grin and start running, exhilarated by the thought of other Loric beings within my grasp. It's amazing. Maybe it's a good sign for me, for all of the Garde. Maybe they're finding Chimaerae too.

I find Andrew right where I left him, but instead of panting, he's simply resting his eyes. I don't hesitate to shake him wildly in my excitement. "Andrew wake up!" I tell him quickly.

When he opens his eyes, he sits upright quickly with alarm in his eyes, but the sight of me calms him down. "Gosh, Maren..." he says tiredly. "What is it?"

"Come here!" I demand, hauling him to his feet. "I need to show you something!"

"What is it?" he asks me, trying to shake off his short nap.

"You'll see!" I hiss as I drag him through my path. "Just come on!"

He doesn't ask anymore questions and lets me haul him. We trample on the three or four minute walk, which feels like three or four hours given my eagerness and having to haul Andrew.

But when we get into the clearing, I'm devastated by what I see.

They're gone. The Chimaerae are gone.

I stand there for a minute in utter shock. Ten minutes. I was off getting Andrew for ten minutes at the most. And when I come back, my sliver of Lorien is gone. Gone just like that. I stare at the spot, stricken.

Andrew frowns. "Maren?" he asks. "What's the matter?"

"They're...they're gone," I say hollowly.

"Gone?" he asks. "What's gone?"

I don't answer him. I'm too stunned, my head too clouded. I let them slip away. I curse myself and turn around, stomping back from where we came from and not looking back at the disappointment. I'm already a few yards ahead by the time Andrew starts moving, baffled at my behavior.

"Maren," he says, jogging up beside me as I keep going. "What was that back there?"

Reluctant and angry, I'm forced to tell him about the Chimaerae, a detail that I left out when talking to him about Lorien previously. I tell him about their origin, what they can do, and how I saw two of them right back there where I had brought him, but then they disappeared.

"Huh," Andrews says thoughtfully when I finish my story. I know he believes me; he always does now, and I have no reason to lie anymore. "Very interesting. How did they get here?"

"I don't know," I tell him. "I don't remember any of them on the ship."

"Hm," he says. "Do you think if there are those two here that...?"

"There are more?" I ask. He nods, which I see out the corner of my eye. "Yeah. I think there could be."

He nods again. "Just something to think about," he says. I nod once in agreement, then fall silent through my anger at losing them.

If those two Chimaerae are here on this Earth, then maybe there are more. Maybe we're not completely alone in this war after all. It gives me hope. But one thing is for sure.

I have to find those Chimaerae.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hello! Thank you to everyone who is still reading. I know updates are taking longer, but I promise I'm not giving up by any means. I'm so sorry this one took such a long time! I've been having writer's block, and I hope there's never this long between an update again. Thank you so much for your patience, I sincerely hope you enjoy every chapter no matter how long it takes. :') **

**Please read and review, your support and opinions mean so much to me! Thank you so much to everyone who has been reviewing! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. :)**

...

As summer begins, Andrew tells me that he's going to be having a few friends from work over tomorrow, Friday night.

This takes me aback for whatever reason. I've hardly thought about Andrew working because he's home with me all the time, even though we consistently have money and pay the bills. That is, until he explains that once he found me, he decided to take an indefinite, extended, paid leave of absence from work while planning to work at home as well in order to take care of me.

I never really pictured him having friends either. I guess I've been so stuck in the self-centered mentality that I grew into with Katarina; Katarina's sole purpose was to take care of me and protect me. But I guess that I've forgotten that before he found me, Andrew had a life on this planet. He still does, but I'm just lucky enough to be a part of it now.

"Oh..." I finally respond when he tells me this. "Okay..."

He looks at me with a concerned expression as we sit across from one another at the breakfast table. "Is that okay with you, Maren?" he asks me carefully.

I nod stiffly. "Yes. It's fine," I assure him. I'm just uncomfortable with the idea of more humans, other humans. Especially scientists, like Andrew. Not all scientists can be as loving and accepting as Andrew is. The thought makes me sick to my stomach, but I swallow it down.

He can see my unease easily, though. "Are you sure?" he asks. "I'll cancel if it makes you too uncomfortable."

I shake my head. "No, Andrew. You've sacrificed so much for me already. I'm not letting you sacrifice something as simple as a get together with your friends too." I glance down briefly and lower my voice. "You do so much for me. You deserve at least this."

He looks at me sadly, but submitting. "Okay, sweetheart." He walks forward and hugs me. "I promise I'll keep it low key."

"It's okay, Andrew," I whisper as he hugs me. "Really, it is."

He smiles. "Thank you, Maren." He rubs my back gently, and I smile.

Maybe it'll be okay...

...

For the next two days leading up to the gathering, I intently search for the Chimaerae in the forest, hoping to find them again. Not only do I want to find them, but the search is helping me keep my mind off of the get together that is to come. It gives me the chills thinking about it, but I don't want Andrew to know that. I don't want him to have to give this up for me. Not another sacrifice.

Nevertheless, I delve into the forest yet again this morning, searching far and wide for the Chimaerae. I look particularly for a hawk and a raccoon, they're preferred forms, but they don't seem to be anywhere. At least not together, or at least not where I can spot them. Every animal I see, though, whether or not it's a hawk or raccoon, I watch it, painstakingly still, in hopes that it will shape shift. None of them do, not the squirrels, the frogs, or any of the birds. In fact, most of the time, whenever they see me, they're startled and run off. The Chimaerae didn't act that way.

Eventually, after a long search, I sit down on a log, feeling defeated. I can't find them anywhere. They have to be here somewhere, though. They weren't just here by coincidence, were they? Maybe they were. Can they truly be gone now? I don't want to think about that being the case. I need the Chimaerae, I need some sort of connection to Lorien and some kind of upper hand against the Mogs that are hunting me. I just can't let my allies slip away so easily.

Perhaps it was a bad idea to come searching in hopes of finding something only to be disappointed when I'm in low spirits already. I sigh and kick a pebble with my foot, then sit in silence for a little while. I have to go back at some point...

I look at my watch. It's four fifteen. Our guests will be here in less than an hour, so I begrudgingly stand up and walk home.

...

I get home, shower up, and make myself somewhat presentable for the guests. Andrew and I settled on our cover story earlier this week; I'm a foster child that he's taking care of for a while until they can find a family to adopt me, as my parents died in a car crash when I was five years old. I'm used to cover stories, but it feels almost wrong to use Andrew in one of them. I swallow the unease for him; he should have this opportunity.

I sit down on the couch heavily once I'm showered; ten more minutes. Andrew comes out from the kitchen and looks at me, concerned.

"Is everything okay, Maren?" he asks sympathetically. I nod in response, but he doesn't buy it. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asks more seriously.

I nod again. "Yes, Andrew. I can handle something as simple as a get together with your friends. Stop worrying."

This quiets him down and he sighs, retreating to the kitchen. I know he only wants to protect me, but I don't want to limit him. I don't want to be a burden anymore than I already am. I don't want to be weak.

Before I know it, the doorbell rings, and Andrew goes to answer it. He opens the door with a smile.

Two men and one woman come in, smiling. They all greet each other fondly, and I can tell just by watching their interactions that they've all been friends for a long time. They all come inside, dressed casually, and Andrew closes the door behind them. He looks to me and nods, as if to say, "Don't worry. It'll be okay." I nod ever so slightly back.

As they come in, I notice each of them brought something. One of the men carries a six pack of beer and a glass bottle in the other hand. The woman has what looks like a small batch of brownies and the other man has two bags of chips; sour cream and onion and barbeque. They all set them on the counter in the kitchen and come into the living room. I stand up.

They all look at me, curiously but not glowering or anything of the sort. They each say a form of hello to me, and I nod quietly back.

Andrew smiles and wraps his arm around me. "This is Maren," he tells the guests. "She's a child that I'm fostering for a little while. She's a great kid. And Maren..." He motions to each of his friends. "This is Kevin, Kelly, and Liam. They're friends of mine from work."

Kevin, the one who brought the beer, scoffs. "From work?" he says, good naturedly. "We've known each other a lot longer than that, Andrew. Cut me some slack." He smiles at me and offers me his hand. "Hi. I'm Kevin."

I shake his hand; his is firm and cold, and it sends an innate shiver up my spine. "Nice to meet you," I say quietly. Kevin is tall, and inch or two taller than Andrew, and rather muscular. He's got close cropped mousy brown hair and a bright white smile. He seems friendly enough.

The woman steps forward next; she's short and petite with strawberry blonde hair back in a pony tail and freckles. "Hi." Her voice is kind and sweet. "I'm Kelly." She shakes my hand, but I almost feel frozen; her kind nature strikes me ask similar to Katarina, and Kelly was one of the aliases I've used. It reminds me of my past. I flinch and try to quickly move on.

The last man is shorter than Andrew, but still taller then the woman. He's thin but not frail, with pale skin, dark brown hair, a goatee, and thick rimmed lasses. He has a nice smile. "Hey. I'm Liam." I nod to him.

Andrew smiles. "Great, everyone's met; let's have dinner." The doorbell rings. "That should be the pizza." He goes to answer the door.

I follow Andrew's friends into the kitchen and we all take seats at the table. I remain quiet while the other three of them chat. They seem like nice people, but I'm at some unease; I've never had much experience interacting with humans because Katarina always forbade it, even my few friends that I had before we always moved away inevitably. Andrew is the only person I know how to talk to.

He comes back in with the pizza and Kevin starts passing out beers to everyone except myself. Instead, he hands me the glass bottle that he was holding in the other hand when he came it. I take it; it's a glass bottle filled with translucent dark red liquid. "What's this?" I ask him.

He smiles widely as Andrew sits down. "It's a cherry soda," he tells me kindly. "Andrew and I used to buy these for thirty five cents during the summer when we were kids."

Andrew smiles, as if reminiscing on the memory himself. "Of yeah. Those were the greatest. We'd have contests to see who could chug them fastest."

Kevin laughs. "Exactly! Soda would end up coming out of our noses. The soda would fizz right up!" They both laugh, and the other two laugh at the story too. Kevin eventually regains his composure, but he's still grinning. "Yeah, we had a blast with them," he continues. "So I just thought, maybe you'd like one. See if you take after your protector, eh?"

Alarm bells go off in my head and a knot forms in my stomach. "What do you mean my protector?" I ask quickly, my voice sharp and defensive on instinct.

Kevin's smile fades, and so does everyone else's. "I...I just meant Andrew...you know, he's your protector, your guardian right now...? He's your foster parent."

I harden my composure. "Uh...right. Yeah..." I look down at my lap, unsure of what else to say to explain my outburst. "Thank you...for the soda." Andrew reaches over and touches my hand. When I look up at him, his expression is saying, "Don't worry. Relax." I give the smallest of nods in return.

An awkward silence falls over us briefly as Andrew passes out pieces of pizza and Liam pops open the chip bags. Kelly is the one who eventually breaks it. "So, Maren...are you enjoying your time here with Andrew?" she asks. Her voice sounds cautious, as if she's afraid the question might cause me to snap out at her again.

"It...it's really nice. I really like it here," I tell her honestly.

"What made you decide to foster, Andrew?" Liam asks in a calm, inquisitive voice. He seems as if he's constantly in thought, wondering about everything. It doesn't sit well with me.

"Oh, lots of things," Andrew says as if it's no big deal. "I haven't decided to settle down yet, and I thought it would be a nice break in my work. Plus, I could tell that Maren needed me."

It's true; I needed him to save me, to heal me of my sickness. But at that sentence, Liam raises his eyebrows. He doesn't say much more, though.

"Yeah, we miss you at work, man," Kevin says. "It's not the same without your attitude and smarts around." He winks and nudges his friend. Andrew smiles a little.

My curiosity overwhelms me momentarily; I want to see what I'm up against. "What...what line of work are you in with him?" I ask quietly.

Kevin shrugs. "Mostly biomedical engineering and things of the like. Fancy-sounding stuff." Kelly chuckles and so does Andrew.

Biology and medicine. That's exactly what Andrew does, and those skills are exactly what enabled him to find out what I am. I shiver involuntarily.

Another slightly awkward silence, but we're all slightly preoccupied by our food. I'm only taking small bites and I only have a few chips. I notice Liam glancing in my direction occasionally while Andrew and Kevin comment on how great the pizza is, Kelly agreeing. It sets me on edge. Kelly is the one who breaks the silence again, only to my dismay.

"So, tell us about yourself, Maren," she offers easily, taking a bite of her pizza.

"Uh...tell you what?" I ask carefully, not wanting to seem too suspicious; too late.

"You know, where you're from, what you like to do...?" she offers further. I guess she's trying to make me feel comfortable.

"I...I'm not from around here. And I like to read and hike," I try. I sound really unsure, so I try to play it off. "Sorry...I've never been really good with talking about myself," I say.

"That's okay," she assures me kindly. I smile weakly. I'm so on edge by this whole ordeal.

We finish dinner with only a slight amount of small talk. I hardly contribute at all. Kelly passes out the brownies she brought, and the only thing I really say is my thanks and telling her how good they taste, just to be kind.

Eventually, they all decide to retire to the living room to watch reruns of shows they used to like. When this happens, I quietly tell Andrew, "I'm going to go in my room and read."

He looks a little troubled by this, but I think he can sense that I'm uncomfortable. "Okay, sweetheart," he says quietly. he pats my back. "Go take a breather."

I nod and hastily go down the hall towards my room. As I go, I hear Liam ask, "Where is she going?"

Andrew answers by saying, "Just to her room to read her book. She's shy, reserved, you know?" He's not wrong...

"I can tell," Liam says plainly. It makes me twitch as I close my door.

I collapse on my bed and for the next two hours, just drown my thoughts in the stories of these characters. Sometimes I wish my reality was like their own...

...

After some time, Andrew calls me out to let me know that our guests are leaving. I emerge to politely say goodbye.

Kevin and Kelly both shake my hands again and tell me that it was nice to meet me. I smile back and exchange the same pleasantry. Liam, on the other hand, seems to take a good long look at me, and it sets me on edge even more. He finally speaks as he's about to go out the door. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Maren," he says casually. As he's about to leave, he turns to Andrew and says something that makes my blood run cold. "Keep an eye on this one, Andrew," he says. "She's a mysterious one. Very interesting." He smiles just a little.

"I assure you I'm taking care of her," Andrew says. "No need to worry."

"Right," Liam says in his calm voice. "Well, have a good weekend." With that, he heads out behind the others.

When Andrew closes the door, he looks at me worriedly, seeing as I've been caught off guard by Liam's offset comment. "You okay?" he asks me.

I take a deep breath. "Yeah," I say quietly. "I'm fine." Andrew wraps his arms around me in a hug.

His friends were nice. Normal, even. Average people, with the exception of the curious Liam, which is probably rather commonplace to an extent. But despite these things, my nervousness of this night has taught me one thing if nothing else.

I don't trust the humans. Andrew is the only exception.


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello! Thank you so much to all of the readers who are continuing to read and dealing with the more spaced updates. I'm really trying to figure out what I want to do with the story. I know where I want it to go, it's just putting it into the words and situation that are evading me partially.**

**But either way, I promise the story will continue! Please read and review, as I love to know your thoughts, and if you really like it, please favorite as well! Thanks so much, you're all wonderful. :)**

...

Things lay low for a while after the get together. Andrew knew that I was very uncomfortable and I know that he feels guilty about it. I keep telling him not to worry, because I really don't want him to. It may have been unnerving for me, but it's over. That's all there is to it now.

I keep looking for the Chimaerae in the woods as well, but I haven't found them yet. They're evading me somehow, or maybe they're truly gone. Who knows? Maybe I was seeing things at the time and there really were no Chimaerae at all. I don't want to accept that explanation, though, and I really don't want to give up. As long as I have the possibility of finding the Chimaera, I have hope. I need that more than ever in my life.

Days, weeks, months pass. I train, I live, and I'm happy with Andrew. It's the way I like it, it's safe and secure, a luxury I've never been fortunate enough in my life to have.

Despite the average days, the days nearing my fifteenth birthday comes with a surprise; a new Legacy.

Andrew and I are outside training. The weather is beautiful, clear skies and sunny all day, but mild as well, a perfect day to train. I'm doing push ups, exerting myself as he counts them.

"Andrew, I'm starting to get tired," I complain after doing about seventy-five of them.

"Only ten more, Maren. You can do it, I know you can." Andrew always encourages me, and it's because of him that I get better.

So I listen to him. My arms are shaking, but I keep going, pouring the rest of my energy into it. I can do it, I can do it.. I suddenly feel myself warm up inside, like a new wave of energy has formed inside of me, and I feel invincible for a second.

Then there's a crack of thunder.

I drop to the ground and look up. Ominous gray clouds are forming above us, threatening the sky, rolling in faster than anything I've ever seen before. They roll under the sun, covering its light, and suddenly the day is dark and gray.

I look at Andrew worriedly as I get to my feet. "I thought you said it was supposed to be clear all day today."

"It was," Andrew says, not breaking his glance from the clouds. He looks amazed, confused, but he's frowning, as if this doesn't feel right.

A flash of light momentarily stuns my vision, and a crack of thunder follows a half a second later. Then the rain comes down.

Andrew's amazement quickly turns to alarm, as if his bad feeling was correct. "Maren, get inside!" he orders. I don't hesitate to comply, as I'm staring to get soaked with rain. I run up the back steps, Andrew following at my heels. I open the door and almost trip inside as the torrential downpour begins. Andrew comes it right behind me and he shuts the door.

Something strange happens then, as if the slam of the door triggered something. The rain slowly ceases within the minute. The thunder and lightning both stop, and the clouds start to break up. It's leaving almost as quickly as it came. My breath is wild and Andrew looks out the window.

"What on Earth...?" Andrew mumbles, puzzled.

I slowly get to my feet, though my legs are trembling a bit. "How...how could a storm just come and go like that?" I ask breathlessly, looking out the window as well at the clearing sky. "It wasn't even supposed to be cloudy today..."

Something dawns on Andrew's face. "I don't think it was any old weather." He looks at me. "I think it was you."

I frown. "What? How could that be me?" I ask him.

"Your powers. Your Legacies," he says. "Maybe this is a new one."

Once he says it, it starts to dawn on me. A Legacy. Of course. When they first arrive, they can't be controlled, not at all. I feel shaky and strange, as if I've been to far exerted. If my Legacy just arrived, then...

I slowly step towards the door again and inch it open. Nothing happens at first. I step outside, and I feel a breeze surround me soon enough. It's cool and slow at first, but then it picks up, blowing my hair back. Soon enough, it becomes a forceful wind, and I find myself clinging to the railing of the porch for security. My mind feels blank.

Andrew instantly reaches out and pulls me back inside, clutching me to him, away from the door, safe. He closes the door. "Wow..." he says, in awe. "Weather manipulation."

I nod in agreement Andrew has seen my Legacies at work, but he's never seen one come about that way, so wild and uncontrolled. Even I feel a bit shocked, knowing those natural forces out there were caused by me. I wasn't expecting a new Legacy... It's a little bit scary, seeing what I can do when I'm not even aware, I wonder what it would be like when it's harnessed...

"Are you okay, Maren?" he asks me carefully, situating me again, seeing that I'm a little bit off.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I tell him. "Just...just a little shaken."

"I'd say," he agrees. He leads me into the kitchen and, as always, starts making tea. No matter the situation, tea can fix it in Andrew's mind. "That's quite the power you have right there," he notes.

"Yeah..." I say absently, looking at my hands. I'm trembling. "I guess it is..."

"Looks like we have something new to work on," he says. "Though it might be trickier than the rest."

I put my head down on the counter and groan. I've finally been getting great at my training, my reflexes, my strength, my fight are all on point. It's going t9o be taxing starting from scratch on a whole new Legacy, especially one like this, but I know I have to.

He looks out the window. Still sunny, still, and mild. My powers have ceased for the moment. "How am I going to learn to control this when it goes almost full blast as soon as I step outside?" I ask him.

"Good question..." he muses. I can tell that his mind is wandering towards his scientific, practical logic. That's how he always tries to figure things out, and despite the unusual circumstances, his logic usually helps us. Maybe I got luckier than I thought by finding a scientist. "There's probably something we can do. Did you feel any different when the storm started?" he asks me.

I try to think about it. I was doing push ups, and he was urging me to do more. I was tired, but then... "A burst of energy," I tell him. "I felt some sort of burst of energy inside of me when it started. While I was doing the push ups."

He nods and slowly grins, knowing that he's hit something useful. "Do you still feel that way now?" he inquires further.

I shift in my seat, trying to determine it. "Maybe a little bit," I note. "Like a dull buzz instead of full force energy."

The kettle starts to boil, and he pours out some water for each of us in a mug. He pushes mine towards me and hands me a tea bag. "That probably has something to do with it," he says, stirring sugar into our mugs. "I think you need to relax a bit, and that energy might cease. It's a start, anyway."

I nod in agreement. Andrew is helpful and level-headed, always trying to come up with a solution. It's helpful to me, and it does help me feel more secure. He's my calm in the storm, literally.

I take a sip of my tea and take a deep breath, in and out, trying to relax myself. I close my eyes and do it again.

Andrew comes around and wraps an arm around me as I do, comforting me in my shaken state like he always does. He kisses my head. "Don't worry, Maren," he says. "We'll figure it out."

I smile a little bit and nod. "We always do," I reply quietly.

...

Later that evening, I take a bath to help myself relax and go to bed a little earlier with Andrew's urging. I write in my journal before I go to sleep, about the storm and the wind and my power. I feel like it's something I'm going to want to remember, and even if I lose this journal, maybe writing it down will help it stay in my brain for just a little longer. It'll keep the memory clearer.

Writing about my powers reminds me what they truly are for. Sometimes, being here with Andrew, I can forget the war, forget everything, and pretend to be normal. I can smile and be happy and not worry about the world resting on my shoulders. Katarina protecting me in the cynical way that she did was always a constant reminder of what was going on, but Andrew isn't. Andrew is an ordinary human, and he takes care of me, but he's not scared and hiding me away. He wants to protect me, just as Katarina did, but it's a different set of circumstances.

For once, I feel safe.

But I know that it's only an illusion, and the thought makes me sick to my stomach. One day, I'm going to have to leave Andrew for the war, or worse, he'll become a part of it. I can't let Andrew get caught in the crossfire. That's not fair to him. He didn't ask for this, ask for me. I can't let him get hurt on my behalf.

I'm a child of war, and I always will be until I'm dead or I've won. Living with Andrew isn't going to change my fate, it's just going to delay it. I can accept that for now. But I know that it won't last forever.

Andrew is helping me become a fighter, a warrior. I know that, and I'm not taking that granted. I could be lost, confused, or worse, captured right now if it weren't for him. He's preparing me for war. He's helping me. My stay here isn't simply delaying my fate; it's also helping it.

Andrew is giving me the life I've never had, but he's also giving me the life I need. Stability, love, protection, and care. But also discipline, training, and preparation for what's to come. He's the balance I never got with Katarina.

The war is still happening, and I know I can't forget. The other Garde are out there, preparing as well, maybe even looking for each other, looking for me. I'm going to be apart of that too, soon.

With thoughts of the war churning in my mind, I slowly drift off to sleep.

...

I wake up in the middle of the night to a light tapping on my window. I freeze instantly, poised for attack, but then I realize it must simply be a branch or something, that I'm being too paranoid after thinking too much about the war.

Slowly, I turn over and sit up just to make sure. It's too dark to see, so I cautiously flick on my lamp by my bed.

I gape at what I see.

At my window, waiting to be let in, are the two Chimaerae.


	22. Chapter 22

**Hello, wonderful readers! Thank you for continuing to leave. I hope you're genuinely enjoying the story, and once again, I apologize for long gaps between updates! I promise that I'm doing my best to write as the ideas come. I just want this story to be the best that it can be.**

**I've received a request todo another chapter in Andrew's point of view, and to address that now, I'm not sure if I'll be putting another one in the story. As far as the current plot points and the plot points I intend to bring about, I don't believe Andrew's point of view will flow well into the story, but if that changes with my ideas, I'll be sure to include it. **

**Please read and review, as that always helps me out. I hope you enjoy, thank you! :)**

...

I wake Andrew up immediately after I let the Chimaerae in. They track a minimal amount of mud across my floor, but they seem completely calm and unaffected by the setting of our house. That's not surprising to me; Loric creatures have always been rather calm and serene, according to what Katarina taught me.

We're sitting in the living room. I'm on the couch with the Chimaerae on either side of me. The raccoon is licking himself clean and the hawk is preening its feathers. Andrew sits juxtaposed to us in the arm chair, studying the mix of us intently.

"Where did they come from?" he asks.

"The hawk just pecked against the window while I was sleeping, and when I heard the noise and got up, they were just sitting out there, so I let them in," I recount.

"How did they find you?"

"I have no idea." I answer honestly. "Maybe by smell, or some kind of Loric sense.'

He seems to null over the thought for a minute. I can see the logical scientist in him taking over, searching for an answer to these mysterious creatures through the earthly knowledge he's procured, me included. It's one of the things about him that frightens me just a bit, but I live with it and hope for the best. I know at this point that he's never going to hurt me. I trust him.

He stands up and walks towards us slowly, almost cautiously. "And you said that they can shape shift into any animal that they wish?" he confirms.

"That's right," I tell him. "But they seem to prefer these forms." As if on cue, though, the raccoon shifts to become a small bird and preens a few feathers on the back of his hawk friend's neck that he's unable to reach, then promptly shifts back into a raccoon when he sits down.

Andrew's eyes widen. "Wow," he says breathlessly, kneeling down in front of us. I see the wheels turning behind his stormy gray-blue eyes. The Chimaerae are looking at him warily, not with the same ease that they appear to me with. I can feel that they're tense, almost poised. His eyes meet mine. "Will they allow me to touch them?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," I tell him honestly. I snap my fingers and get the Chimaerae's attention. Slowly, I put my hand on my chest, then move my hand, making sure the Chimaerae watch, to Andrew's chest. They tilt their heads in slight confusion, slight question. For animals, they're communication towards me is good. It makes me feel connected to them even more.

"Friend. Safe," I tell them, regarding Andrew. "Okay?"

They seem to understand this and relax visibly. The raccoon chatters and the hawk flaps its wings. I hope that means they're offering their approval.

"Try now," I tell Andrew. "But be cautious. Don't scare them."

He slowly reaches out his hand towards the raccoon. He makes no protest to his hand. When it's close enough, he sniffs Andrew's hand, but seems to think nothing of it. Andrew smiles and slowly reaches back and pets the raccoon's back. He seems to enjoy this and flops down in place, relaxing.

"They're tame," he notes.

"Not tame," I correct. "Just calm. Peaceful."

Andrew grins widely. "Wow...this is amazing," he says quietly. He moves his hand around and feels the heartbeat of the raccoon, which doesn't seem to bother the raccoon either. "It's quick," Andrew notes, looking up at me with the same affection he always does. He's smiling just a bit now, a gentler expression. "Just like yours."

I nod. "It's the same concept. Their body works harder than a normal animal's does, just like mine works harder than yours because of my Legacies." Andrew nods in understanding.

We're quiet for a few more minutes, which gives me another opportunity to think about this more than I want to. The Chimaerae are here; they've found me. I have a connection to Lorien now, an upper hand...something I never would've imagined.

"Andrew..." I say quietly. He looks up at me, but I have trouble meeting his gaze. "Do...do you know what this means?" I ask him. He tilts his head in slight confusion. My breath is labored and my mouth feels dry as I try to go on, as I try to form the thought.

"It means...it means that the war is starting," I tell him. "It was always going on. But now...it's real. It's something actual. And the Chimaerae...they found me for a reason. I can't just...ignore it."

Andrew slowly begins to frown. "What are you saying, Maren?" he asks me.

I look down. I feel tears burn in my eyes. I never imagined this moment, not yet. I haven't wanted to. "I...I'm saying that...that this is my call to battle," I tell him. "The Chimaerae and I have to go. We have to go find the others and fight in the war."

His expression grows more sad in addition to the frown. "You...you mean...you're going to leave?" he asks me, his voice so soft that I almost don't hear.

I almost choke on my next set of words. Painful... "I...I have to," I say quietly. "I can't run from this forever."

Andrew tears his gaze from mine as he tries to gather his thoughts. I can see the shift now; the logical side of Andrew is gone, replaced by his vulnerable, confused emotional side that he uses with me most of the time. It's the side that let's me feel love from him, and it receives the love I give back to him. It's the side that keeps us both sustained. The idea of me leaving hits home emotionally; that means a lot to me. No one has cared about me that way before. No one has ever cared when I've left.

Suddenly, his expression changes, and he brings his gaze back up to me. His expression is now hard, stony, resolved. "No," he says decidedly, his voice more firm than it was a minute ago. "No, you can't go alone."

My heart cracks, but I'm not sure for what reason. "Andrew, I have to," I tell him, my voice growing urgent. His resolve doesn't falter at all. "You...you can't keep me here. I have to go."

"I didn't say you couldn't go," he says quietly. "I said you couldn't go alone."

Now I'm the one who's confused. "What are you saying, then?"

He looks me in the eye. "I'm saying that I'm going with you."


	23. Chapter 23

**Hello, readers! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. (Partial cliffhanger?) I hope you enjoy this next chapter, please read and review, as I love to hear your thoughts, predictions, etc.! You're all wonderful individuals whom I'd be lost without. Thank you for your support! :')**

...

I'm initially stunned beyond words when Andrew says this. It takes me a minute to register the thought, or to register anything, before I speak again.

Andrew, coming with me? To fight in the Loric war? This was my worst fear when I found him, his involvement on my behalf. I can't let that happen. I can't let anything bad happen to him.

"Andrew..." I struggle to form his name. "You...you can't..."

"Why not?" he counters instantly, though not angrily. "Give me one legitimate reason why I shouldn't help you."

"Because this isn't your fight!" I cry out. "This isn't your battle! It's not fair to you!" I feel as if I put my emotion into those words, my fear of losing him, my need for his safety at the potential cost of my own. I hope he understands what he means to me.

Andrew seems taken aback by my outburst at first, but slowly, his composure returns. He seems to think for a minute before he speaks, choosing his next set of words ever so carefully. "Maren..." he says quietly. "Let me ask you something." He looks up at me, his blue-gray eyes solemn yet troubled, and searching mine at the same time. "Is this war yours? Is this war fair to you?" he asks me.

I'm about to open my mouth to retort, to tell him that, yes, this is my war and it's completely fair, but his words stop me once I realize what they truly mean. Is this war fair to me? Is it even my fight? I never really considered it, I just accepted it. I bite my lip. Thinking about it logistically, the answer is no. No, the war isn't fair to me by any means. I'm a kid, not a soldier. But what about morally? Is it fair?

Andrew takes my silence and the look on my face as his answer. "No," he confirms my thoughts in a soft voice. "This war isn't fair to you. You were a child when you were sent here to defend your planet and mine, expected to give your life for a cause you knew nothing about. The war is your planet's, but it's not yours specifically. It was what's expected of you, not your choice."

His words sting, bittersweet in some ways that I never thought of, but I know that they're true. I meet Andrew's eyes again, though it's almost painful. "This is my choice," he continues. "I have a choice. And I choose you, Maren. I choose who you are and what you're expected to stand for."

I open my mouth to argue, but I almost can't. How can I deny his help this way? How can I tell him that I have to leave him, when he's offering to come with me? How can I let go of one of the only good things that I've had in my life when he's offering to hold on?

But I know why.

"I can't let you get hurt," I whisper as a tear falls down my cheek at the thought, the dreadfully painful thought. "I can't let anything happen to you. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to you." I already carry the burden of Katarina's death on my shoulders, and that weight is hard to bear. The burden of Andrew's would absolutely destroy me.

Andrew smiles at me sadly. "Sweetheart," he says, his voice slow, methodical. "I don't know what your expectations are, but you're not about to go charging into battle. You can't. You still have a lot to do before that happens. And I'm willing to help you with that."

I blink absently for a second, registering his words. Charging into battle...are those my expectations? Am I anticipating running head-on into an army of Mogadorians to fight my way out until the war is over, with no plan other than to kill and destroy?

No. No, of course not. Of course I can't do that. That's foolish. That's unrealistic. There's more to war than fight. There's more to war than death. There's planning, strategy, gathering forces and information and resources. Winning the war isn't going to be killing all of the Mogs. Winning the war is going to be a plan, a process.

I look up at Andrew, and I see his smile broaden as he sees my realization.

"I...I guess you're right. Fighting isn't the immediate answer, at least not right now." As he said, there's a lot to do before that.

He takes my hand in his and squeezes gently, and we meet each other's eyes again. "I can help you, Maren," he tells me. "You're not alone anymore, not even in the war. You have me." He squeezes my hand a little tighter. "And I'm not letting you get away that easily."

I'm still searching for my mind, as it feels lost, along with all of my words. Is he right? Can he help me? Can he come with me, and it'll still all be okay? Can I truly hold onto him?"

"I...I..." I studder again, still grappling for words. "You...you're right." I look up at him, tears in my eyes still, but I'm not sure what from. "You can help me. I need you." He nods, urging me to go on. I take a shaky breath.

"We're a team," I tell him quietly. "And...I need you with me."

He looks at me and smiles, though his smile is almost tortured through these whirling thoughts. "You mean you'll let me come with you?" he asks quietly.

I nod slowly. "You're the best I have," I whisper. "I don't want to let that get away easily either."

At this, Andrew's smile turns into a relieved grin. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, and I hug him back. His relief is evident even in how tightly he hugs me, the way his arms shake and the way he breathes out for so long that it makes me think he was holding it before.

"Thank you, Maren..." he whispers as he holds me.

"No," I say, holding right back. "Thank you..."

...

Andrew and I both determine that we're not going to be able to sleep with all of this churning in our minds, so he makes us some tea. The Chimaerae, however, seem perfectly content to curl up on the couch in the form of two corgi pups. They seem tired, so we leave them to their peace.

After our tea, Andrew climbs up onto the roof and lays out a blanket for us. He helps me climb onto the roof (though I don't particularly need it) and we lay down on the blanket to look up and watch the stars.

While it's weighing on my mind, I instantly find the dull star that is Lorien. I watch it emotionlessly for a moment, as if there are clouds in my head that prevent me from doing anything more than registering its appearance. I sigh quietly and shiver.

Andrew feels me shiver, so he pulls me closer to him, wrapping an arm around me and holding me to his side. He's warm, and he smells like tea and soap. I close my eyes and just cherish his presence for a moment. The crickets chirp, but otherwise, the night is still.

"Andrew?" I finally ask, breaking the silence that has built itself up.

"Yeah, kiddo?" he responds quietly.

"Why do you want to come with me? Why would you want to put yourself in that situation?" I ask him. I appreciate the gesture, but it doesn't make sense to me.

He chuckles airily, as if the answer is obvious. "Because I love you, Maren," he says simply.

Love. I forgot about love, since I've never really had it before, save Katarina.

I close my eyes again slowly.

"I love you too, Andrew."


	24. Chapter 24

**Hello! I'm so sorry for the long wait between chapters, but I've had horrible writer's block regarding how to continue the story. :( I am by no means giving up, I've just had a hard time trying to transition my ideas smoothly. Thank you so much for your patience, you're all lovely people. :)**

**I know I've said this before (please forgive me), but I'm hoping updates will be coming more frequently once I get over this transitional bump and have all of my ideas in line. I've been really busy lately with school and stress, and writer's block has not been friendly to me, so I really hope you'll enjoy this! Action is coming and it WILL be escalating!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please read and review to tell me what you think, as that means so much to me! Thanks so much for sticking with me through this! :)**

...

Andrew and I take a week after making our decision to relax and try to cope. Reality is going to set in at some point. We continue our lives as we have been, but the weight of our decision is heavy. We need some time to come to terms with it.

It still doesn't feel real to me yet. The Chimaerae are here, and they're going to help me, but does that mean the war is about to start? Is this the beginning of the end?

Thinking about it more, I don't know if I'm ready. Andrew was right; I can't just charge head-on into battle. That would be foolish. I need a plan, a strategy, and he's going to help me with that. It feels like my days with Katarina again, only this time I'm finding a balance between fight and flight. Katarina was too fearful, but for good reason. Now that I'm older, I can take on more. I hope that she would be proud of me.

I've been trying to get a gauge on how Andrew feels, but he has a pretty good poker face. I'm not sure if he's worried or scared or even relieved that he'll still be with me to some extent. He doesn't want to talk about it, not yet. We'll be ready soon, but not quite yet.

I wake up as usual to Andrew making breakfast for us. The tea kettle boils just as I sit on my stool. Andrew looks at me over the rim of his reading glasses, which he's using to read the paper. "Morning," he says. "How do you feel?"

Every day since we came to our consensus, he's asked me how I feel. I think he's worried about me, though rightfully so. Truthfully, I don't know how I feel. I don't know yet. Some days I tell him what I think I feel; sad, confused, or even happy if that's what suits me. Today, though, I just answer, "I'm okay."

He nods once as he brews our tea. "Good," he says. "Okay is better than bad." I nod in agreement, but I can hear the unspoken thought behind his words; okay is still worse than good, and he wants me to be good.

I stir sugar into my tea quietly. I muster up the courage that I've been working up for the past few days and say, "Maybe we should talk about what we're going to do next."

Andrew looks up at me. He stares at me for a minute before replying. "Are you ready to talk about it?" he asks cautiously.

"Are you?" I ask him back.

"I'm worried about you, Maren. Not myself."

I sigh out slowly. I knew he was going to say that. For now, I say what I at least know at this point, what I've gathered from so much thought the past week. "I was raised into this, Andrew; this is what I was sent to Earth to do. Katarina told me, and she prepared me to the best of her abilities. I knew this time was going to come at some point. I always knew." I pause for a moment. "But...after coming here...I stepped away from all of it with you. Things were different for a while. But still, I knew that this was coming; I didn't know when and I didn't think it would be this soon, but I knew." I stir my tea absently again, my hand nearly shaking. "But now it has come, and you've come with it. And since it has, I don't know how to feel. Especially because you're in it now too." I look down, almost unable to meet his gaze. "You never asked for this. You never asked for me. But now that you have me, you've taken on this impossible responsibility, of continuing to raise me and helping me in what I need to do."

I finally find the courage to peer up, and Andrew is looking at me, almost sadly. "I want that responsibility, Maren," he tells me quietly, his voice completely serious. "I don't want you to do this alone anymore."

"I know." I look up at him again. "But like I said, I was raised into it. You weren't. You chose this. So tell me how you feel, if you're ready."

Andrew looks at me, his face seemingly puzzled, like he doesn't know what to make of this. Maybe he's like me; he's unsure of how to feel, only for different reasons. Maybe he's confused. I wish I could tell what he's thinking, but I'm hoping that he'll tell me himself.

"You're right," he finally admits. "I didn't ask for this. But even though I didn't, I chose it now." He clenches and unclenches his fist slowly, as if trying to gather himself. "I'm convicted in that choice. I believe in that choice. And even though I never imagined myself in this place, a part of me is glad that I am." He breathes out slowly. He's having a hard time trying to compose his thoughts, just like I was; this has taken a toll on both of us. "But I'm also relieved because even though this may be dangerous, I'll be able to sleep a little easier knowing I'm with you than not knowing where you are or what's happening to you," he says quietly. He pauses. "But I am afraid. I am worried. I am nervous. But the relief and the gladness? They're so much more convicting than any fear or anxiety." He looks me in the eyes. "I'm ready, Maren, because I know that you are. And I'm in this for you."

I stare at him for a few moments, now puzzled myself. My heart hammers in my chest as this is all brought to light between us. "Why me?" I finally ask him. "Why would you choose me?"

He smiles gently at me, a true smile. "Because you're part of something so much bigger than all of us, Maren. Something important, something amazing, something impactful. That's worth fighting for," he says softly. "But more importantly, it's because of you. Your resilience, your spirit, and everything else about you. I've grown to love you like my own daughter. YOU are worth fighting for."

My heart swells when he says this. He chose me. He chose me not only because of what I was a part of, but because of who I am. He chose ME. Not my species, not my fight, not anything. He chose me. "I never thought anyone in this world would ever choose me." I pause for a moment, then continue with all sincerity. "I also never thought that I would love anyone in this world," I tell him. I finally find it to meet his gaze. "But you're not just anyone. Because you chose me, and I love you."

He smiles softly, touched. He comes around the counter to me and wraps his arms around me, embracing me tightly, securely, as he always has. "I love you too, Maren," he says quietly. "I love you so much."

I embrace him back readily. And in that moment, I realize that we're ready, and we're going to be okay.


	25. Chapter 25

**Hello, readers! Happy Holidays and (almost) New Year! :D**

**Thank you for being patient as I try to write updates and for those who always come back to read! That means so much to me, and I'm really trying to do my best for you guys to make this story the best that it can be. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please read and review, as I love to hear your thoughts!**

**Thank you so much for your support; I hope you continue having a safe and happy season!**

...

Andrew and I finally sit down and start to map out what we're going to do. We're coming up with a simple rough idea and just playing it by ear; I think we've realized that you can't simply plan for these things, especially one of this magnitude. It isn't that black and white.

I'm jittery with adrenaline coursing through my veins. I'm finally about to start doing what I was sent here to do; to serve and save Lorien. It's what I was born to do, destined to do, what I've been training and preparing for my whole life. And even more than that, I'm going to avenge Katarina's death. She lived for me and died for me, and it won't be in vain. I will make her proud.

Andrew finally comes and sits next to me on the couch, where I'm nearly bouncing. He chuckles lightly. "Calm down, kiddo," he says good naturedly, patting my back. "Let's get to it."

"What first?" I ask him, almost too quickly. I can't help but be eager. Scared, but eager.

He nods his head towards me in a consideration. "I think you're a better person to answer that question," he says plainly.

I frown and look up at him. "What do you mean?" I ask. "You're supposed to be helping me."

"Oh, I'm going to help you, Maren," he says assuredly. "But we have to start with you."

Start with me? "How?" I ask him. He was right before; I need help with this. My first instinct was to go charging head-on into battle, but that's not going to work. If I don't know what to do, how are we going to start with me? "I want your guidance, Andrew."

"But I need something from you before I can guide you," he says. He looks at me solemnly, the way he does when he tries to get through to me, for me to seriously listen and understand him. "Maren, I'm only human. You were right; this isn't my fight. I only know what you've told me about the war. You know the ins and outs of what you are, what you need, and what's expected. I need you so we can make this war ours."

I look at my lap and consider it, biting my lip. It isn't his war, and truly, it isn't my war either. It's just been forced upon me. But together, we can make this our war; WE can have the leg up. "What do you need?" I ask.

"A starting point," he answers. "What do YOU think we need to do first?"

Well, since we can't go charging into battle... "Find the others," I answer immediately.

He nods slowly, considering. He purses his lips in thought, and I can tell that wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. "That was too quick of an answer," he says analytically. "That was impulse. Try again."

I sigh, frustrated. "That's what I think," I tell him flatly. What else does he want?

He sighs. "Maren, please, work with me here," he says. "Think it over again. I know you can."

I bite my lip. I know he wants me to try, but I don't know what's expected of me in this situation. I've never been through this before, not with Katarina or by myself. Katarina was never ready to do this with me. When I was on my own, my only instinct was to run, to get away. I was lost. I still feel lost now. It's stressful, trying to think this way...am I really ready for this?

Andrew sees my distress. "Let me try to make this easier," he says, nodding his head slowly to assure me. I nod as well, following along, focusing on him to avoid the stress. "If you could have one thing to help you in the war...what would it be?" he asks. His words are slow and meticulous, chosen carefully not to overwhelm me. He sees that I'm on the brink of it now. Neither of us want that. "Whether it be somewhere to go, gathering intelligence...what would it be?"

I try to think now. What could help me? I have my training, I'm ready there. I have my Legacies. I have my ally. Finding the others would be helpful; I'd have more allies, more support...but is there something that I could do before that? There must...what do I need?

And then it hits me.

"My chest," I say slowly, as if assessing the thought out loud. I look up at Andrew. "My Loric chest."

His mouth quirks up at the corners for a second, pleased that I came up with something. "Okay. We have a start," he says. "Now, what is your Loric chest?"

I brief him quickly about my Loric inheritance, how it contains artifacts and objects from Lorien that are intended to help me win the war and restore Lorien once we do. I explain how Katarina and I buried it while we were on the run to keep it safe because we were afraid it would be taken.

As I explain, Andrew's eyes seem to light up and he smiles. "That's brilliant, Maren. That's exactly what we need," he says enthusiastically. I can tell he's pleased with it, and I feel good about that too, almost relieved. "Where is your chest buried?"

"In Arkansas," I answer. "Somewhere in the north."

He frowns slightly. "That covers a large area..." he muses. His face relaxes. "But it's a lead if nothing else." He smiles again and wraps his arms around me. I can feel his relief with my own. "That's great, Maren. That's exactly what we're looking for."

I smile and hug him back, feeling truly accomplished. "I'm glad I thought of something..." Hearing the words, the idea, I understand what Andrew means. A leg up, a strategy. Something that will help us get ahead, and my Loric chest is the first step to that. We have a starting point now. We can go from there.

He kisses my forehead. "I'm so proud of you, Maren," he says quietly. "I'm so, so proud..."

My heart swells when he says that. He's proud... "Thank you, Andrew..."

It's as if he reads my mind with his next thought. "And I know Katarina would be proud of you too," he whispers. He strokes back my hair and holds me a little closer, almost protectively.

I breathe out slowly, relaxed in his embrace. "You are the only two who have ever cared about me," I whisper, my heart warmed and aching at the same time. "If I don't do anything else in my life, if I die at the hands of Mogadorians, I want to be able to say I made you proud."

"You have, sweetheart," he tells me, his voice soft and soothing, as if to comfort the pain he knows I feel. "You've made us both so proud."

I breathe out again, seeing as it relaxes me. "I love you," I whisper.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

We sit like that for a while, embracing each other. We both realize that we need each other now more than ever. It took me a long time to trust Andrew. I've been here for almost two years now, and I can't imagine life without him. The thought of him coming with me is joyous and terrifying, seeing that I'm putting on the line the one good thing in my life. But he's set and he promised. There's no going back now.

Two years. Two years I've been here. Time has seemed to stop and fly all at the same time. My days here roll on, similar each day, but always full of something new. Every day I've grown closer to Andrew. Every day I've learned from him. And every day I've grown with him. He's raised me, just as Katarina did. He means as much to me as she did. He cared about me when no one else did, and he gave me a life despite my impossible circumstances.

And we'll keep living together now. We'll still grow closer, still learn from each other, and still grow together. Because despite everything, that's what we do. And that's what we'll keep doing.

After a while, Andrew gently pats my back. "Go pack your stuff, kiddo. We'll leave for Arkansas tomorrow."


	26. Chapter 26

**Hello! Thank you for continuing to read my story. Please don't be discouraged by the lengthy gaps between updates, this story will continue!**

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...

I don't sleep well that night.

I pack my things mechanically that evening, going through the motions that I always went through with Katarina. It's sadly nostalgic, mostly lacking Katarina's presence and the fact that I'm leaving a place I love. I didn't have many attachments in the places I stayed with Kat, but I have an attachment here. It's a weird sinking feeling knowing that I'm going to leave.

At least I have timer to appreciate it. When I moved with Katarina, we always left in a hurry, rushing and just doing it, never thinking about it. Now I have time to think, and I'm finding that's a good and bad thing. For once, I'm leaving something behind instead of abandoning it completely.

Andrew told me to pack light, sticking to the essentials. I'm used to that at this point when it comes to moving around. I'm packing away clothes in a duffel bag now. Jeans, t-shirts, sweatshirts, sneakers, all of the practical things that I'll need. The raccoon Chimaera, who I've taken to calling Bandit, is sitting on my bed, simply watching me pack. He's good company for now.

Andrew also gave me a small backpack to keep on hand with me. I walk placidly around my room to collect things for inside of it. I walk to my desk and take my sketch pad out of the drawer. I pick it up along with a few pencils in case I wish to draw along the road. Before I slip it in, though, I flip through the pages. There's a scene from the forest, my mug of tea on my desk, and the yellow blanket that Andrew and I use balled up on the floor. I've just taken to drawing what I see. It helps me make memories.

After putting in the sketchpad, I bend down near my bookshelf and pick up two books to bring with me; the first and last books that Andrew bought for me. I've found myself living vicariously through these books, living and experiencing the adventures within them to escape my own life sometimes. It humbles me and helps me. Andrew taught me that books have the power to do amazing things. I place them in my bag with care and sigh, unsure of what else to bring.

"Surely you're not planning on leaving that behind," says a voice near the door. It's Andrew, leaning against the door frame. I look at him curiously until he nods towards my nightstand where my journal lay.

"Oh," I say. I look down in my lap. "Katarina always taught me never to bring things like that, or to get rid of them before we left. They were to dangerous to keep around, if the Mogs ever got their hands on them..."

Andrew slowly walks in and over to my nightstand. He picks up my journal and flips through the pages fleetingly, not looking at any of them in particular. He then looks over and walks to me. He bends down in front of me and holds the journal out to me. "Maren," he says, looking me in the eyes while still gripping the journal. "This is your life. These are your memories." He places the journal in my hand and wraps my fingers around it until he knows I'm holding it securely. "They're worth the risk."

I grip the journal tightly in my hands, but I hesitate as I stare at it. I want to take it; I really do. And if I want to take it that badly, I know that he must be right. This journal is my life, my memories. It contains my happiness. It's important to me. Without another word, I slowly put the journal into my backpack. He nods slowly, as if to tell me that he approves of this decision, that he's glad I made it.

I stand up slowly and go finish packing. Just as I'm nearly finished, Andrew comes back in holding a mug of tea for me. He hands it to me as I sit on the edge of my bed. I sip it. It tastes sweet with the sugar in it. Light, with a hint of apple flavor.

"It's chamomile," he tells me. "It helps you relax." I nod in agreement and sip it again; Heaven knows I need it.

We mostly sit in silence as we drink our tea. There's not much to say, really. Andrew is right; the tea is hot and soothing to me. The silence is only broken when Andrew stands up. He pats my back gently. "Get some sleep, kiddo. You need it," he says quietly. He leans down and kisses my head. "Love you."

I look up at him. "Love you too."

With that, he takes my empty mug and his and leaves. I know he needs sleep too.

...

I lay in bed for a while despite the chamomile tea. I can't fall asleep and just end up tossing and turning for a while.

I can't seem to stop thinking. Thinking about this place, thinking about leaving, and thinking about what's next. I've never experienced this before, being able to think and consider the circumstances I'm facing. Before, it was simply doing, not thinking. For once, I have ties. For once, I have an attachments. For once, I have a life.

For once, I have something to lose.

I can't shake the feeling as I look around my room in the darkness that this will be the last time I ever see this place. The thought scares me, and more than that, it just makes me sad. I love this place. This is my home...

But I'm exhausted, and thinking only makes it worse. The exhaustion wins, and I finally drift to sleep, still unsure.

...

I wake up achy and early the next morning. I get out of bed as I normally do, but I'm stiff and my head feels clouded. This is a grim day for me.

I go out to the kitchen and see that Andrew is already making breakfast, as usual. Opposed to me, his motions are jittery and sporadic, while mine are slow and lethargic. I guess our stress over the situation manifests differently, but they both show.

"Good morning, Maren," Andrew greets me. Despite his apparent nerves, his voice is calm and mellow as it usually is when he addresses me. He starts buttering and jellying the toast as I slide onto the stool.

"Good morning," I reply flatly. He pushes my mug of tea towards me and I take a sip. Its warmth is familiar and comforting, and it eases my stress slightly as I sip it. Andrew is right; tea is an amazing drink, the heal all, cure all.

"Are you all packed?" he asks me quietly, then taking a sip of tea.

I nod weakly, almost regreattably. I wish I didn;t have to be packed. "Everything is in my room..." I tell him, my voice sad. "Ready to go..." My whole life, I've always been ready to move at any moment. This time...I'm not.

He places his hand on mine. "It'll be okay, Maren. We have each other, and that's what matters."

I nod in agreement. I know that he's right.

We eat our breakfast mostly in silence, because there are really no words the can console us. What must be, must be.

...

I gather all of my things and put them in the truck. Andrew has packed food and supplies and everything else we might need, and he's packing it all in too. The Chimaerae jump in the back seat where I laid when Andrew found me in my sickness. They make themselves comfortable as I put all of my stuff in the truck bed.

After that, I do one last walk through of the house. I go to the living room first. The room is still, peaceful. It has always seemed peaceful in here to me. The yellow knit blanket that we always use is folded on the couch. Andrew comes in as I look at it, picks it up, and takes it outside; I guess we're taking it with us. Somehow, that's almost consoling to me

I walk through the kitchen, where we shared all of our meals, tea, and stories. It's where I told him more about Lorien, and where he first told me about constellations. I liik at the tea cabinet and smile at the big jar of tea. I look towards the back door, the one I ran out of when I tried to run away, and the one that I stumbled through when I discovered my elemental manipulation Legacy. There are so many memories here, and memories are the only thing I've been able to hold onto in my life.

I go back to Andrew's room, where I first slept and healed when he brought me here. It's all so familiar to me now, from the curtains on the windows to the pictures on the walls. His bed is neatly made and everything is in place. It's quaint, as it's always been, and it somehow brings a smile to my face.

Last, I walk through my room, the room that Andrew made for me. I remember the day he showed it to me, how I was out of the house while he built it. I remember the cupcake sitting on my desk for my birthday, and the bookshelf when it was once bare. Now the room looks more used, more lived in. My desktop is worn and my bookshelf is much more alive. The rug on the floor doesn't look brand new anymore. This room is mine; it's where I belong. It's where I've learned to live and love. But now I must leave it. I must leave it behind for battle. Such is life.

With one last fleeting look, I try to untie the heart string and turn away. With a pain in my chest, I go meet Andrew on the porch.

He looks at me sympathetically, seeing my obvious sadness as he wraps his arms around me. I embrace him back, trying not to cry, trying not to show the pain. He must know exactly what I'm thinking by his next words.

"This won't be the last time, Maren," he whispers softly. "You'll come back here again."

I look up at him with tears in my eyes. "You think so?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

He nods. "Even if something happens...if we get separated or lost..." He presses something into my hand. When I open it, it's a key. A house key. "I know you can always find your way back home."

I stare at my key and think about his words. Home...this is home...

Holding tightly to my small but meaningful gift with a shaking hand, I embrace him again tightly. "Thank you..." I whisper.

He doesn't say anything; he doesn't need to. He just holds me tightly, securely, which is what I need most right now. We stand like that for a while, and I wish we could forever. But we can't.

When we finally release each other, he smiles at me. He guides me towards the truck, away from the house for the final time, and wraps his arm around me.

"All right, kiddo," he says, patting my back. "Let's go save the world."


	27. Chapter 27

**Hello, wonderful readers! Thank you for bearing with me as I write this. This chapter is longer (hence the longer wait...) and I really hope you enjoy it! Please read and review, as I love to hear your opinions and thoughts! As always, thank you for reading. :) **

...

During our drive, I fall in and out of sleep constantly, probably my body's way of coping with the trip and the sadness. Andrew lets me know every time we cross to a new state.

"Welcome to Alabama," I hear Andrew say softly, an indication of another check point. I yawn out and nod, acknowledging him. We've been driving for hours... I'm starting to get pretty hungry. We've only been sustaining ourselves on protein bars and trail mix thus far.

Andrew must read my mind. "How about we stop for dinner in?" he suggests. I nod eagerly in agreement and he laughs lightly at my enthusiasm. Within the next ten minutes, he pulls off an exit of the highway that we're on and we pull up to a small local diner with a bright neon sign, but a less impressive building.

We park and get out of the truck, heading towards the door. Andrew opens it for me and I step inside. For a place that's not much on the outside, it's pretty lively on the inside. Gentle yet uplifting music is being played through the speakers, and the murmur of voices can be heard all throughout the restaurant. Many of the tables are filled, and waiters and waitresses are hustling around with plates and drinks and everything in between.

The hostess seats us and Andrew thanks her graciously. The first thing we both do, of course, is order tea.

Andrew has dark circles under his eyes, probably from such a long time driving and fatigue. He takes a sip of his tea when it comes, closing his eyes.

"Andrew, maybe we should stop and rest for the night," I offer. "You're in no condition to continue on this way."

He shakes his head, as I figured he would. "I'll be fine, Maren, really. Don't worry about me."

"I am worried about you," I reply. "You're always worried about me, so now I get to worry for you. I want to stop for the night."

He sighs at my stubbornness. "Maren-"

"It'll be better if we arrive tomorrow anyway. Better spirits, more energy." As I say it, I realize that it's actually very true. I think facing the retrieval of my chest right after leaving home would be too much for me to emotionally bear all at once. I look at him with pleading eyes, for his sake and mine. "Please, Andrew."

His face slowly softens. I think he sees the truth, the emotion, and the real request behind my voice; we both need to be spared right now. There's only so much we can handle. "Okay," he finally agrees. "We'll stop for the night in another hour and arrive tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay," I reply, partly relieved. We're quiet for another minute as we sip our tea, and then our waitress takes our order. I order a chicken sandwich, while Andrew gets a steak. Once she walks away, Andrew looks around tentatively to make sure no one is watching, and then he leans forward.

"Now, Maren, do you know exactly where your Loric chest is buried?" he asks me in a hushed tone.

I shake my head. "I...I'm not sure," I tell him. "Katarina and I did it in such a hurry...it was pretty secluded." I recount how we found a lake with a small island in the middle and how I swam out to the middle of it to bury my chest. As I tell the story, I try to think back to that day, digging through my memory as to remember some obscure detail that I might've missed, that might bring me a better idea... After all, we can't just drive blindly around Northern Arkansas until we find the lake I'm thinking of.

"We drove there on a lot of back roads...really secluded, not many people around. That's probably why Katarina picked it," I tell him, hoping telling the story will job my memory and bring something to the surface. "I don't know if she planned that location or if we just happened to stumble upon it when the time was right." I start recalling details of the lake; the water was tinted green, and there was a small sandy shore all around it. There were trees lining most sides of the lake, emphasizing its secluded nature. There was a wooden dock, off of which I jumped with my chess and swam to the center, and an old wooden picnic table that was rotting on one of the legs and lopsided. Right next to the picnic table, there was a sign...

A sign.

"There was a sign," I recall quickly to Andrew, and his eyes light up at the clue. "It...it was one of those blue informational signs with gold lettering, one that told you about the historic landmark and why it was important." I put my head in my hands, trying desperately hard to grasp what the sign had said. It was a name... I know it's in my mind somewhere, because I remember reading it off to Katarina. She smiled at me when I told her and replied, "Then one day, when the time is right and you need your chest again, you'll be able to return to the castle to get it."

"The castle..." I mumble under my breath, my thoughts beginning to come aloud as I try to focus and remember.

"What was that?" Andrew asks me.

"Castle..." I repeat again. It dawns on me, and I look up quickly at Andrew. "Castle Lake! That was the name of the lake where we buried my chest!" My voice is still low, but excited. "I remember, because the sign said, 'Castle Lake, 1898'. I don't remember the rest, but I remember Castle Lake." I nod, convincing myself that I'm right.

Andrew leans back in his chair. "Castle Lake..." he muses. "In Castle, Arkansas, maybe?"

I nod in agreement. "That's probably it," I agree.

Andrew stands up and goes to the front of the restaurant and asks the hostess for a road map; apparently this is a common travel stop, as it's pretty secluded just along the highway. He brings back the map and unfolds it across the table. He starts scanning the map with his eyes, looking for our destination. Finally, he points his finger to a very small dot in Northern Arkansas, labelled "Castle". He looks at me with raised eyebrows and I nod, almost grinning.

"That's it. That has to be it," I tell him. He nods in agreement and folds the map back up.

Looks like we found our destination, huh, kiddo?" He smiles at me gently. I nod and smile back.

He picks up his teacup and raises it in the air in front of me with a slight smile on his face. "To Castle, Arkansas," he says, "and to new adventures."

I smile at him and tap my tea cup with his, then we take a sip. He winks at me, and I smile even wider.

This is my new adventure. And I'm starting it with my new protector. My new friend.

We'll be okay.

...

We stop at a hotel for the night after a little more driving once we leave the diner. When we get into our hotel room, I almost immediately collapse on one of the beds, despite the fact that I slept so much in the car today already. I'm so emotionally drained from leaving the house and driving all day towards destiny. It takes a lot out of you.

The two Chimaerae crawl out of my pocket as mice, then they scurry to the floor and turn into cats. They curl up next to one another on the windowsill, and they're asleep as fast as I wish to be.

I sigh out slowly as my eyes hope to flutter shut. I hear Andrew moving about, and soon, he bends down next to me and kisses my cheek. "Goodnight, Maren. Sleep tight." He pulls off my shoes and pulls the covers on top of me, tucking me in.

"Goodnight, Andrew" I reply quietly, my face nearly buried in my pillow.

I hear Andrew moving about, situating things for a few more minutes, but he finally crawls into his bed and shuts off the last light.

"Andrew?" I say quietly as he pulls his own covers up.

"Yeah, kiddo?" he replies in a whisper.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Maren."

And with that simple yet immensely important assurance, I fall soundly to sleep.

...

After another strenuous wake up the next morning, we hit the road and drive for endless hours. The anticipation makes the drive seem endless, and I don't fall in and out of sleep as easily as yesterday, but after what seems like an eternity, I finally see a run down sign for Castle, Arkansas, only a few miles ahead.

The roads soon turn into remote back roads and even dirt roads, and there's a sign for Castle Lake up ahead. I'm about to point it out when Andrew says, "I know. I see it." He's just as observant and anxious in this situation as I am.

He looks over at me as he turns down the road for Castle Lake. "You nervous, sweetheart?" he asks me gently.

I do something between a shrug and a nod. "I...I don't know. It's hard to tell. It's a weird feeling." After being away from this life for so long, I'm finally coming back to it. I'm on to my next big adventure.

We finally pull up by the lake, the tires spreading dirt and dust everywhere, and I almost burst with anticipation. The sight of the lake sends me into a sadly nostalgic memory. "This is it," I tell him, my voice quiet and dry. "This is the place."

He nods slowly, trying to respect my space, and then we slowly get out of the truck. I'm careful as I step out, not wanting to get dirty or disturb the tortured peace that this place seems to have. Maybe it's only me, me and my memories that make it feel that way. We walk forward towards the lake.

Our shoes make footprints in the dirt and the sand, but ours are the only ones. No ones seems to have been here for ages. The sun is high in the sky, and it gleams across the water. Andrew puts his hand up by his eyes, trying to block the glare as he peers forward over the lake. He points straight ahead. "Is that where it's buried?" he asks.

I nod stiffly in agreement. "Yup. That's it," I tell him. "The only way out there is swimming." The last time a boat was in this water was probably 1898.

"Do you want me to get it?" he asks, his voice weak, probably because he already knows the answer.

I shake my head. "I have to. This is my battle, my destiny."

He nods once, solemnly. He knows he can't change my mind. "Okay," he says. He walks over and hugs me. "Be careful. I love you."

I hug him back, his familiarity calming through my high-strung nerves. "I love you too."

With that thought in mind, I kick out of my shoes, walk to the edge of the dock, and jump off the edge.

I plunge into the cold water and shiver at first, but the surge of cold spikes my senses and my instincts, and I instantly start swimming. I break the surface and gasp for air, then surge onward.

The swimming, the motions, the whole scene feels familiar, only in reverse and sort of empty without the presence of Katarina. But that hole in my heart is partially filled by Andrew's presence on the shore as I go back to finally retrieve what's rightfully mine.

With my enhanced strength and all of my training, the swim doesn't take long, and soon enough, I'm hauling myself up onto the small island, the location that my chest is buried. I gasp for breath, worn out, and crawl my way up the island until I'm in the dead center. My heart pounds in my chest; my Loric inheritance is resting right beneath me.

I begin tearing away at the dusty dirt, shoveling it out by the handful. A hole is forming at rapid pace before me, and my blood pumps harder. Before long, my fingernails scratch against something hard. My eyes widen as I feverishly brush away dirt, an then I see it.

My Loric chest.

I claw it out and pull as hard as I can to free it from the Earth, and once I do, my hands shake as I lift it towards me. I brush away the dirt and stare at it, hardly believing my eyes. After all these years...I finally have my inheritance.

The large blue stone in the center-probably Loralite-glows as I touch the chest. The ornate silver carving gleams in the high sunlight. I run my hands along it delicately. It's beautiful...

Eventually, my hands find the lock, and because Katarina is no more, it clicks open at my simple touch. I slowly open the lid, anticipating, exhilarated, and even partially afraid. My inheritance.

My mind boggles at the objects inside, things that I know nothing about. There's a small stone that looks like a diamond sitting in one corner. When I pick it up, it's cold to the touch, colder than it should be. I carefully set it back down.

There's a black velvet drawstring pouch, one that can fit in the palm of my hand. There's something inside, and judging by the feeling, the contents have the consistency of sand. I don't look inside, too afraid to at the moment.

The next thing I pull out is a small, smooth black stone. It's dense in my hand. Katarina taught me about this; it's a healing stone. It was the first thing she ever showed me from my chest when I broke my arm while training. It healed me, but it caused double the amount of pain as the original injury. This could come in handy. I slyly pocket it in my wet jeans.

With that, I snap my chest closed, grinning from ear to ear now that I have it. I pick it up and clutch it to my chest, then turn around...

And I'm horrified by what I see.

On the shore, there are four Mogadorian scouts, hideous and grotesque in appearance. Three of them have blasters aimed at me, and the other has his hand around Andrew's throat with a dagger in his other hand.

"Surrender, Number Eight!" calls the cruel looking Mogadorian scout holding Andrew, using the number that I lied with long ago. "Or your human protector dies."

...

**For disclaimer purposes, Castle, Arkansas is an entirely fictional setting, created by me only for its convenience in the plot. As always, thanks you for reading! :)**


	28. Chapter 28

**Hello, readers! Thank you so much for continuing to read, I really hope you're enjoying the story! And thank you so much to those of you that review! I love hearing your thoughts and seeing your reactions to the story, it mean a lot to me as an author!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter, thank you for your support! :)**

...

I stand frozen to my spot. My heart nearly stops has I look at the scene before me, but soon after, it starts pounding harder than ever. It's the fear, the adrenaline taking hold. No...

This can't be real...this can't be real...

"Did I stutter, Number Eight?" calls the cruel Mogadorian that's holding Andrew hostage. "Or do you want to watch your powerless human protector die?! We already killed your first one!"

Rage seizes me at the mention of Katarina. "LET HIM GO!" I scream at them, stepping forward assertively as I finally find my courage.

The Mogadorian smiles wryly and speaks again. He must be their leader, their commander. "Feisty, are we?" he guns me on. "We won't have to hurt him if you just cooperate. Surrender yourself and your Loric Inheritance and we will let him go."

"DON'T DO IT!" Andrew yells to me, his voice terrified yet angry. "DON'T LISTEN TO THEM!"

The Mogadorian presses the tip of his dagger closer to Andrew's abdomen. "Be quiet or you die instantly!" he spits.

"I surrender!" I yell, putting my hands in the air. It's the only thing I can think to say that will make them spare Andrew. "You can take me and my Chest as long as you let him go!"

"NO!" Andrew protests loudly.

"A wise decision, Number Eight," calls the Mogadorian, grinning wickedly, donning his ugly teeth. His pale skin is blinding, making a hideous combination of a creature. "A wise decision indeed."

"I'll swim to you," I call back, trying to keep my voice level. "You can take me. Just leave my protector alone."

"If you try anything, we will annihilate your protector," he calls back simply, sounding bored and irritated. "Make haste with your surrender."

Without anymore hesitation, I quickly get into the water, knowing I have to save Andrew. My mind is spinning, and I'm coursing with adrenaline. I have about three minutes worth of a swim to come up with a plan. I have to do something. I have to.

I try to assess my resources. I have my Chest, but if I try to access it at all, they'll kill Andrew on the spot. I can't let that happen. I have my Legacies, which are pretty well trained thanks to Andrew, but I have to use them wisely so I don't get Andrew killed. As I swim, trying so desperately hard to grasp anything that could be of help, I also realize that I have a pocketknife in the pocket of my jeans, a little gift that Andrew got me that he told me to always carry around. It's sticking to me in my sopping jeans, but I have it. I feel some relief realizing that.

I have a weapon. I have my powers. I can do this. If I can just put my adrenaline and my aggression in the right place, I can do this.

As I swim, I try to keep a straight face and start formulating a plan. As I do, I swiftly start using my telekinesis to dislodge the pocketknife from my jeans. My mind is working in battle overdrive, and my Legacies are on point. I clutch my Chest close to me as I continue swimming.

Eventually, the pocketknife comes loose and finds its way into the hand that's clutching my Chest while the other one is paddling to help my swimming. I use my Legacy again to swing out the blade, and I feel it come out. I'm armed.

I survey the situation on the beach and plan my moves carefully. There's four of them. Three of them are pointing blasters at me, and the other has Andrew at dagger point. I calculate a meticulous plan, and I'm soon ready to put it into action.

My heart is in the right place. My mind is in the right place. My adrenaline is high. I've never been more ready for this.

With one final propulsion, I make it to the shore and stand up straight, facing my battle.

Before any of them have a chance to utter out a single syllable, make one single threat, I snap out my free hand and send the Mogadorian leader, the one holding Andrew at dagger point, sprawling backwards with my telekinesis.

That's enough to send the scene into havoc.

One of the Mogadorians fires his blaster at me. His aim would have hit me square in the Chest, only I'm smart enough not to exert my energy fighting back because the charm has not yet been broken. Instead, the Mogadorian that fired at me is engulfed in the shot of his own blaster, turning to ash next to has comrades. I, on the other hand, am unscathed.

The other two Mogadorians look at each other, dumbfounded, but they launch into action quickly. They learn from their fellow soldier and don't dare use their blasters, but they charge at me instead.

I have to fight them off. As they get closer, I run at them with all my might and kick one of them in the shin. He doubles over in pain, now off balance, and it's enough to easily send him sprawling to the ground. The other one, on the other hand, tackles me outright.

I'm thrown to the ground with the Mogaodrian on top of me. I wildly look at him, ready to dodge any sort of blow, but then I realize that he can't harm me. I do realize, however, that he's trying to wrestle me for my Chest.

"Give it up, Number Eight," he growls in a rough, poisonous voice. "You cannot win."

"NEVER!" I scream menacingly. I manage to pull my hand free and I stab him in the shoulder with my pocket knife, ripping it down through his skin until his black blood comes dripping out, feeling like acid against my own skin. He howls in pain, and his convulsion as an attempt to recoil puts me in the perfect position to send my knee straight into his gut. He makes another grunting sound, and he falls off of me.

But right in that moment, when I foolishly believe I've defeated one for the moment, the other soldier that I kicked in the shin snatches my Chest from me and begins sprinting off with it.

"HEY!" I scream, getting to my feet and sprinting after him. "That belongs to ME!" I outstretch my hand, ready to seize him with my telekinesis, when I hear a loud, pained yell behind me.

And it's a voice I know.

I turn around placidly, and to my horror, I see Andrew with a dagger pierced through his midsection, his face contorted into a mask of pain. The Mogadorian that I blasted aside recovered.

And he stabbed Andrew.

The commander cackles. "You foolish Loric scum," he spits in his gruff voice, one that sounds life a thousand nails on a chalkboard. "Your cause is a hopeless one!" He pulls the dagger out of Andrew, who crumples to the ground. "Do you really believe that you can defeat us?"

I stare ahead. At the moment, all of my anger surfaces. They killed my Katarina. They've taken everything from me. And now, they're trying to take the one thing that I've found for myself. I find myself shaking with rage, about ready to explode, but when I finally speak, my voice is surprisingly, eerily calm.

"Yes," I say dangerously. I look down at the unconscious Mogadorian beside me, the one that wrestled me to the ground. Without a second thought, I raise my foot and bring it down as hard I can on his head, shattering his skull. He turns to ash in a moment. I stare menacingly at the commander. "I do."

And it the moment, before he has a chance to respond, I throw my pocketknife at a blurring, threateningly fast speed, and it sinks into the chest of the commander. He convulses for a moment and then stares at it protruding from his chest and now oozing black blood, dumbstruck, unsure of what just happened.

But I don't leave it at that. That would be far too merciful.

Instead I outstretch my arm and use my telekinesis, ripping the knife down his midsection, causing black blood to erupt from his body. He chokes only for a moment, sputtering with a startled expression on his face before falling, turning to ash before he even hits the ground.

I take a deep breath.

They're dead. I killed three of them, but the last one made off with my Chest to goodness knows where. But I did it. I battled and I survived.

But then I realize.

Andrew. I run to him as fast as I can and I fall to my knees beside him. He's laying motionless and my eyes widen, my heart pounding in my ears. His wound is deep. He's bleeding out.

I've failed him.


	29. Chapter 29

**A quick reply to the guest reviewer who asked about the number of chapters I plan to write...I'm honestly not sure, I don't have a true number. I'm just going to write until the end of the story, which I do have planned and have in the foreseeable future. In addition, thank you for your kind review. :) **

**As always, thank you for reading!**

...

My heart pounds as I stare down at Andrew. I'm almost in a trance, but I know I can't stay like that. His life is dwindling away, and I'm not going to let him go out that way.

"A-Andrew..." I say, my voice hoarse and pained as tears start to form in my eyes. I grip his hand and his shoulder. I'm not sure if he's unconscious. "Can...can you h-hear me?"

He doesn't respond for a moment. No. No, no, no... "Andrew, please..." My voice cracks, along with my heart.

He coughs after a moment, and relief floods through me knowing he's at least still alive. "I can hear you, Maren," he replies in a hoarse whisper.

At his response, I break down. "I'm so sorry, Andrew..." I sob out to him, now shaking as I hold his hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. This is all my fault."

"It's okay, sweetheart," he says softly, his voice calm as he speaks to me in my apprehension. "I knew this was a possibility...I accepted it."

"But it shouldn't have happened this way," I tell him feverishly. "I shouldn't have put you in danger. It's my fault that you're dying."

"It's not your fault, Maren. You did all that you could," he says calmly, looking at me with his familiar, though now glazed, stormy gray eyes. He puts his other hand on my cheek softly, his hand shaking from weakness and blood loss, and I release another quaking sob.

"No...no, there has to be something that I can do." In my rushing sadness, I try to think of something I can do to save him. I quickly strip off my jacket and wring it out, then I use it to staunch the blood flow from his wound. He makes a slight noise of discomfort. It has to work, it has to do something...

"I don't think that's going to be enough, sweetheart," he tells me as kindly as he can, his voice becoming more and more hoarse and pained with each word. "I think this is my end. But we've had a good ride together. I wouldn't have missed it for anything." He smiles at me weakly, his eyes twinkling. It shatters my heart.

"No!" I say immediately. "This can't be the end! I can't lose you, Andrew!"

"Maren..." He breaks off in a cough and I release another sob. There has to be something I can do, but I'm never going to find a solution when I'm this apprehensive, when I'm this emotional.

I don't want to accept it. I can't accept it...I can't. I look down at Andrew's face, a face I know so well, a face that is so familiar and comforting and loving. I can't accept it. I won't let him go. I think of all of the memoires, all of the things we've done together. Everything I've learned, everything that I have become because of him. I can't let him go.

"But...but what will I do without you?" I whisper through my cries. No, no... "I...I love you..."

He smiles sadly, his expression pained. I can't stand watching the life dwindle out of someone who has brought so much life to me. "I love you too, Maren," he whispers. "But once I'm gone, you'll eventually make peace and be okay, just like you did after Katarina died. You'll find your way. You'll learn. You'll heal."

"This isn't the end," I tell him. I'm about to say more, but something he says hits home.

Heal.

Healing...

And then it truly hits me.

My healing stone from my Chest. I took it out when I looked inside. It's in my pocket.

Andrew looks at me weakly, the light from his eyes fading. "What?" he asks, knowing I've realized something.

"My healing stone!" I say frantically, now quickly struggling to free it from my pocket. "I took it from my Loric Chest before they took it! It can heal you! I can save you!"

His eyes widen, though I can tell they wish to close. "What?" he asks again.

In a surge of need as my heart pounds, my struggles finally free the stone from my pocket. Dark, round, smooth, and gleaming, I show it to Andrew. "This is an enchanted Loric stone. It can heal any wound, as long as it's applied soon after the wound is received." It hasn't been long. This has to work. "It'll hurt, but it can heal you. It _will _heal you."

And without another word, I press the stone to his chest.

I feel the stone give a jolt. Andrew instantly yells out loudly and arches his spine in pain. The stone glows on the spot, and I can feel the power and energy coursing through it. I hold my breath as it hopefully works, feeling like an eternity has passed when the power finally starts thrumming through it.

I pull the stone away. Andrew is stone still and his eyes are closed. My heart seems to stop. "Andrew...?"

I take a look at his abdomen and, through the tear of his bloody shirt, see that his wound has completely healed. I'm afraid the pain itself may have killed him when suddenly, he gasps for breath and his eyes open wide.

I'm flooded with relief and happiness. "Andrew!" I throw my arms around him and find myself now sobbing tears of joy. "You're alive! You're okay!'

He seems to breathe deeply and laugh lightly as he slowly hugs me back. "I am," he says, his voice relieved. He pulls back and grins at me, the life and color returning to his face. "All thanks to you."

My tears keep coming, so happy and relieved that I didn't lose him. "I love you, Andrew," I tell him, knowing that if I wanted him to know anything, it was surely that.

He smiles even more. "I love you too, Maren."

...

After Andrew has a minute to recover from the trauma and the shock, we get in the truck and book it out of Castle, Arkansas as fast as we can, praying that we're not being tracked. I somehow don't believe that we are; they made off with my Loric Chest, too big of a prize for them to waste time releasing other scouts or attaching a tracking device to our truck.

As we drive off, Andrew is still in disbelief. "You saved me with a little stone," he says for the hundredth time. He smiles and shakes his head, unable to believe it. "That's amazing, Maren."

"Don't thank me," I say quietly. "Thank the Loric Elders. They're the ones who gave it to me."

"But you're the one who thought of it. You thought on your feet. You battled, and you won," he tells me, pride swelling in his voice. "I'm so proud of you."

I breathe out slowly, still slightly shocked and shaken myself, but I couldn't be more grateful that Andrew is still with me. "I...I just couldn't stand to lose you," I nearly whisper. "I was willing to do anything to save you. But I didn't win." I lost my Chest. I let them get away with my Loric Inheritance.

Andrew is quiet for a moment. He reaches over and takes my hand comfortingly as he keeps his other hand on the wheel. "I'm so sorry you lost your Chest, Maren," he says quietly, his voice genuine.

I sigh shakily, trying not to think about all that I've lost. "It...It's okay," I reply. "I saved you. I saved what truly matters."

"But you still lost something important to you," he replies gently, his voice careful. "And that makes it okay to be a little sad."

I sigh shakily. I don't want to accept that sadness. I want to be strong, I want to keep moving... I sniffle slightly nevertheless, unable to contain my sadness. "Katarina would be so disappointed in me," I whisper. "I lost the last connection I had to Lorien. I finally went to get it after all these years. I had it, and I let it slip away. What kind of a Loric am I?" I sniffle again, and again.

Andrew squeezes my hand, and when I glance over at him, his face is stoic and solemn. "Maren," he says quietly. "Katarina would be proud of you. She probably couldn't be more proud, wherever she may be looking down on you." He rubs my hand gently. "You're finally doing what she was always raising you to do; fight the battle for your people. There's going to be wins and losses along the way. But I couldn't be more certain that she's proud of you for where you are now." He squeezes my hand again. "At least I know that I am."

I smile slightly, despite my tears. His words warm my heart. "Thank you, Andrew," I whisper. I look up at him. "I'm sorry you almost died. I never mean for that to happen. I never wanted you to get hurt."

Andrew's voice is kind and gentle when he speaks, but also a little tired. "Stop apologizing, Maren. I forgive you," he replies. "It wasn't your fault. I made my decision to go with you, and I knew the risks. I was willing to accept that for you. You may blame yourself for my near death, but the way I see it, I can only be grateful that you're the one who saved me." He glances over at me just a bit with a small but sad smile. "I'll take whatever this life throws at us, sweetheart. As long as we're together and we're doing what's best."

I don't know what to say. Hearing Andrew say these things still amazes me to this day. How can an ordinary human like him adapt to this the way he has? He had a normal life before me, and I came in and turned it upside down. My life is an anomaly. Yet, he still learned about me and kept me, and he's willing to do anything to protect me and help me, even die. Maybe those are the sacrifices you're willing to make for the people you truly care about, and maybe I'm the one that still can't wrap my head around someone caring about me that way. But even as I think these things, seeing his sad smile makes me realize that he truly understands this life now, and he does accept it. I accept it too.

"So," Andrew says after a long silence. "Since your Chest didn't work out, what do you think we should do next?"

I take a deep breath as the topic is brought to light. "That's easy," I say plainly. "We do the only thing we can do." It's all we have left...

"We go and find the others."


	30. Chapter 30

Andrew and I drive for a while and then rest for the night. We need it after the day that we've had. The next day, we drive for hours and hours more until we distance ourselves as much as we can from Castle, Arkansas. The Chimaera didn't make it with us through the fight. They went in the woods to stretch their legs, and I can only imagine they were ambushed by Mogs. They never came back to us, and after searching for them tirelessly, I know that they're gone. I'm taking it hard. It breaks my heart. My spirits are so low. Andrew is trying to keep me focused, though.

"So, how do you think we should go about finding the others?" Andrew asks me a while into the drive. He seems better today, as if he's come to terms with what happened and let the shock subside. The color has returned to his face and he seems to breathe easier now. He's probably still a bit shaken, but I am too. I can't blame him.

"I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure that out," I tell him. Part of me doesn't like having to think about it... "We can't just look them up or something. None of us have true identities, and we're trying to hide ourselves on purpose. If we can find them, that means the Mogs can too."

"Which means it won't be easy," Andrew sums up flatly.

"Not at all," I agree.

"What do you think we can do to try and find them?" he asks. "If the other Garde were going to find you, how would you suppose they'd try?"

I wouldn't want to be found, so I don't know how they'd try. What could I do that would make them find me. "I guess...I'd start by searching for notable, unusual things that have happened," I offer slowly. "Sometimes when Garde train their Legacies, bad things can happen. Things that can draw attention."

"Like the freak, out-of-the-blue storm that you caused when you got your Legacy," Andrew says meticulously.

"Exactly like that," I tell him. "If we can find some of those things that are happening around the world, maybe it'll point us in the right direction of the other Garde." It's a long shot, but at least it's something. It's the best we have so far. "If we're lucky, the other Garde may be looking for others too. Maybe that will make it easier."

"We do have another option, you know," Andrew says. I look at him curiously, but his vision is focused on the road.

"What's that?" I ask him.

"We let them find us," he replies.

I frown momentarily. "How could we do that?" I ask. "We're hiding just as much as the other Garde are. We can't just sit around and let them find us. That would take ages."

"Unless we make ourselves known," he continues.

I frown a little more, not liking the sound of that. "How would we do that?"

Andrew chuckles. "I hate to be stereotypical, but have you ever seen any alien movies?" he asks me. I shake my head; Katarina and I liked action films, but their version of aliens in those films kind of freaked us out. "In the movies, aliens always made crop circles to make their presence known. Big shows of things to draw attention to them and let the people know that they were there. If we did something like that, then maybe the other Loric would be able to find you."

I consider it for a moment. It's an idea, if nothing else. Maybe the Loric would find me. Maybe we could reunite if they saw the sign, the flare that lets them know that they're not alone, that I'm here too. But then I remember our one huge problem.

"We couldn't," I tell Andrew, my voice flat and disappointed, almost bitter. "We might draw the attention of the Garde, but we'd draw the attention of the Mogs even faster. Besides, we're already on their radar because they took my Chest and they know I'm with you and on the move. That would be far too risky for us."

Andrew nods, seeming to understand my concerns. "Well, maybe if we're lucky, one of the others will send up a flare for us."

"And hopefully we'll get to them before the Mogs do," I reply, gazing out the window.

...

After a while, we stop at an internet café in an attempt to search for any stories on the internet that could potentially be other Garde. Andrew goes up and orders us tea while I go sit at a free computer. I log on and start half-heartedly searching for stories. I'm not into it; my heart just isn't in it after losing my Chest and the Chimaera and almost Andrew all in one day. It seems bleak, hopeless... I'm reading about an apparent coming of the Vishnu god in India when Andrew comes and sits beside me, setting a saucer of tea beside me.

"Anything of interest?" he asks.

"Nothing much..." I tell him. "A lot of incredible stories, but most of them don't really fit the description of a Garde." A woman lifting a car off of her child in Canada, an old man predicting the future in Cambodia...but other than that...

"There was one interesting one about a teenage boy in Kenya..." I click back to the article, looking at it intently. I was only skimming before, mostly because I'm tired. "Reported to have surprising endurance and..." I read on and my eyes widen slightly, seeing something I just skimmed over before. "...strange markings on his ankles."

Andrew raises his eyebrows and his gaze drifts down to my own ankle, where my scars are covered by my jeans. "Sounds familiar," he muses.

I keep scrolling through the article to see if there's a picture of these markings or any more information, but there's none. "It's not much to go by," I tell Andrew quietly, tuning to look at him. "But it's something."

He nods in agreement. "It's worth looking into for sure," he says. "But we can't make any assumptions or go crazy yet."

"I know..." I agree. "But we have to keep it in mind."

"And we will," Andrew assures. "But it's only our first day of searching."

"I know," I agree reluctantly again.

He pats my back and takes another sip of his tea. I do the same. "Come on, kiddo. Let's get out of here and drive a little more before we stop for the night."

I sigh. "Okay..." I click off of the article. We sit for a few more minutes and finish our tea before hitting the road again.

We drive about another hour until we stop at a hotel just over the state border of Kentucky. When we get into the hotel room, I collapse onto my bed immediately. I plow through each day of this, but the exhaustion and overwhelm always catches up to me, and all I can do is sleep it off. Just dream it all away...

...

I wake up to light flooding in through the hotel room's windows. I blink a few times when I open my eyes. I take a deep breath and sit up, stretching. "Good morning, Andrew..." I mutter in my sleepy state through a yawn.

Andrew doesn't respond.

"Andrew?" I figure he must still be asleep. I turn towards his bed.

Only he's not in it.

"Andrew?" I say a bit loudly. I quickly scramble out of bed and check the bathroom. He's not in there either. "Andrew, where are you?" I'm starting to panic now, having almost lost him once before. Where could he have gone? Did he leave me here?

Just as I'm about to assume the worst, I hear the lock of the door click, as if the key card was inserted, and the door is pushed open. In comes Andrew, grinning, carrying a plate with a large Belgian waffle on it with strawberries, whipped cream, and a lit candle sticking out the top.

"Happy birthday to you..." he sings with a big smile. "Happy birthday to you..." I can't help but smile as he comes in with it and sits down beside me on the bed. "Happy birthday dearest Maren..." He holds the plate with one hand and wraps his other arm around me affectionately, pulling me closer. "Happy birthday to you. Make a wish."

I smile and close my eyes, then I make a wish and blow out the candle. Andrew cheers a bit and squeezes me closer. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

"It's my birthday?" I ask him curiously. I didn't realize...

"Well, I don't know about that," he says. "But I know it's been a year since we last celebrated. So naturally, you're sixteen by now."

Sixteen. I can't believe I'm sixteen years old. I've been here on earth since I was about six years old. I've been here for ten years. Katarina died when I was thirteen. I was alone, and then Andrew found me. I can't believe it...

"It's crazy, isn't it?" Andrew asks me, as if reading my mind. "You've been with me for two years. Even more than that." He leans over and kisses my head. Andrew's caring, vulnerable side is coming out again, the one that makes me feel so cared for. He's been using his logical mind lately, trying to figure out our plans and our moves, and it's refreshing to just see his softer side, his raw emotions and care.

"It is crazy," I say quietly. "Time flies."

"It really does," he agrees. He rubs my back carefully. "You've really grown up on me, Maren."

I look up at him. "You think?" I ask.

He nods. "When I found you, you were young, sick, and scared. You've grown so much since then. You're a powerful, determined, capable individual now. You're a warrior, you're ready to take on your fight." He kisses my head again. "I couldn't be more proud of you."

I smile a little bit, touched. "You are?" I ask.

He nods with certainty. "I am," he says. "And I know Katarina would be so proud of the Loric you've become."

I look at him with a twinkle in my eye. "You think so?" I ask.

He smiles and nods again, assuring me. "I know so."

I smile. After another moment of silence and me delving into my waffle, Andrew draws something else out of his coat pocket. It's a small purple envelope. It says, "Maren Elizabeth".

"What's this?" I ask as he hands it to me.

"It's a birthday card," he says. "Open it."

I do so carefully. Inside is a beautiful card that has fancy script and a pretty blue flower on, decorated in watercolor. On the front it says, "To my dearest daughter..."

Daughter? I look up at Andrew. He smiles a little bit and nods, urging me to open it. I do, slowly.

Something falls out, but I read the card before I pick it up. The printed script inside reads, "As the years go by, I see you grow more and more every year. Each year makes me prouder of the young lady you're becoming, and each year has been filled with love. Happy birthday." At the bottom, Andrew has written something himself. "We make a great team, don't we? A great team, and a great family. Thank you for being my family. I've been so happy to be yours, Maren. With love, -Andrew."

I look up at Andrew with tears in my eyes. I can see through his small smile, his eyes are glistening with tears as well. "Daughter?" I ask in a small voice.

He nods slowly. "You're my family, Maren. My only family. And I love you so, so much for that," he says quietly. "I have for a long time."

My heart is touched. Daughter...like a real family. He is my family. I can't help but wrap my arms around him. "I think that's why fate let you find me," I whisper to him as I keep his warm, familiar embrace. "We both needed a family."

He nods. "And we both found one." He kisses my head.

When we let go, I reach down and pick up what dropped out of the card. It's a Polaroid photograph of Andrew and me, all smiles and laughing. Andrew's face is joyful and kind, the way it's been since thee day I met him. We took these pictures on a Sunday afternoon in the spring. Andrew showed me the old camera that once belonged to his father, and we took some pictures with it.

"That's for you to keep," he says quietly. "No matter where you go, if we ever get separated or anything ever happens, you'll always have a little piece of our family to bring with you."

I look up at him and tears of happiness pour down my cheeks. "This is wonderful," I whisper. "Thank you.

"You're welcome," he says warmly. He wraps his arms around me, and I don't hesitate to do the same. His embrace is comforting to me. When the cold of my life and my existence chill me to the bone, when my destiny catches up with me and my blood thirst for the Mogs prevails, my family with him will always warm me up.

"I love you, Andrew," I reply. "Thank you for my birthday."

"You're welcome, Maren," he says quietly. "Here's to many more."


	31. Chapter 31

**Hello, readers! Thank you to everyone who is continuously reading and reviewing. The support is really meaningful to me, and I really hope you're enjoying the story. **

**As I know a lot of people are probably wondering, this is story is coming to a close very soon. I have the end in mind, and there will probably be only two more chapters, including this one, and possibly an epilogue. I'm honestly really sad to finish this story, as it's my first real Lorien Legacies FanFiction, and I've enjoyed writing it so much. **

**As always, thanks for your continued support. :) **

...

We spend the rest of my birthday the same way we did when we lived at our house; happy, carefree, and just simply enjoying each other's company. We try not to worry about the Mogs or finding the others or the boy in Kenya. We take a well needed break.

We drive out of town until we find a secluded woody area. After looking at a map at a visitor's center, Andrew works out a route for us to hike through the woods. The thought makes me happy; it reminds me of our nature walks at home.

The trail is beautiful and secluded. The air smells like pine and birch, and besides a light breeze, the air is still and calm. I follow Andrew as we hike, following the sun and kicking pine cones. I love these nature walks because they truly make me feel as if nothing in the world can find me or hurt me, which is something I need to feel every now and again. It's an amazing, freeing feeling that I've only ever felt when I'm with Andrew.

Andrew sees my wide grin. "Enjoying yourself?" he asks me kindly, a small, amused smile playing at his own lips.

I nod. "Yeah, I am," I tell him earnestly. It's moments like these where I couldn't feel happier.

"Reminds you of home, huh?" he asks. I nod; it does remind me of home. It's a happy nostalgia, but it's also sad knowing I'm far away and may not ever see it again.

Andrew seems to read my mind, something he seems to do a lot. "Don't worry, Maren," he says quietly. "You'll find your way back there someday."

I breathe out slowly. "I hope you're right..." I whisper.

"Come on," he says, pulling ahead of me again. "It's just up ahead." I jog to catch up.

After another minute or so of uphill trekking, we finally come to a large clearing in the trees, looking in the shape of a perfect circle. The trees tower over top, forming an everlastingly tall canopy that makes me feel small and hidden. In the center of the clearing is a small pit that must have been used for fire at some point. There are logs surrounding it.

"Wow," I say breathlessly, taking in the serene sight. "Was this on the map?"

"It was," Andrew says. "But the person at the visitor center said that no one's been up here for years."

"I can tell..." It looks all but abandoned, but there's an eerie sort of peace to it. I don't mind it.

"Yeah," Andrew says, smiling a bit and walking forward. I know he appreciates this beauty as much as I do; it's somehow a part of him, and it's something that I have learned from him as well. "And it's all ours for now."

I smile broadly. Soon enough, Andrew has made us a campfire in the middle of the age-old fire pit, and he's using it to boil water, of course, for us to have fireside tea. It's become a tradition for us now. Once the tea is made, we start to make s'mores over the fire as well. We're mostly quiet, simply enjoying the seclusion of our spot.

As I look around, though, I can't help but feel a sad sort of empty nostalgia wash over me, and I wonder why. But as I look at the forest of trees and the empty log across the fire from me, I realize.

"Andrew," I ask quietly, my voice hardly above a whisper. "What...what do you think happened to our Chimaerae?"

Andrew stays still for a moment, but his face is solemn and grim. "Do you want the truth?" he asks quietly.

I nod weakly, and he sighs. "I think they were captured," he says quietly. "I think the Mogadorians took them back to their base to hold them captive or experiment on them. They are, after all, phenomenal creatures." I sigh sadly and my heart contracts. Our poor Chimaerae... "But don't be too discouraged," Andrew says, seeing my obvious despair. "If they're still alive, that means you have the chance to get them back."

"I guess so..." I say sadly. I just can't fathom the idea that our poor Chimaerae will be held captive by the Mogs and tortured, a fate worse than death. They were my first real connection to Lorien, my first real leg up in this war. And now they're gone, ripped from me by the Mogs just like everything else good in my life. I'm back at square one as far as the war goes.

"I know what you're thinking," Andrew says quietly after the anguished silence. He needn't say more as he puts his hand on my leg. "But you're going to be okay, Maren."

I sigh sadly. "I'm not so sure, Andrew..." I say quietly. What if I'm not truly the warrior that I've been brought up to be?

"Well, I am," he says quietly, his face lit with the orange glow of the fire, accenting the solemn shadows. "I know you will be."

He's never sounded more convinced in such a calm manner. And in that moment, I believe him. I will be okay. I'm a warrior, and no matter what happens, I will take back what's mine. They've taken everything from me; my home, my protector, my Chimaerae, everything. But they won't win this. I'm far too determined. And perhaps that determination alone, a determination for revenge and justice, is what's going to save me after all. It will save me, and it will be their ultimate demise.

Feeling slightly more confident, Andrew and I finish up our tea and prepare to head back. Andrew has always had that effect on me; he makes me feel more assured and more secure. He makes me feel safe, a feeling I never would have believed that I could accomplish on my own. He's done so much for me, and I'm so grateful.

It's because of him that I am where I am today. We'll be okay.

I'll be okay.

...

After my sixteenth birthday, we're on the move again, hopping from town to town and internet café to internet café, searching for any sort of word of the other Garde. Even a possibility is better than nothing at this point.

I keep looking for updates about the boy in Kenya, but nothing comes. I must read the one article that there is about a thousand times over the next two days, and I get more and more antsy as I do.

"Andrew, I really think he might be one of us," I tell him, scrolling through the article yet again as we rest in a small coffee shop in a weary town in northeastern Kentucky. "It's the best lead we have."

"Maren, it's hardly a lead at all," he says reasonably, leaning forward to scan through the article again. "It may just be a coincidence."

"Coincidences don't exist," I mutter. That's something Katarina taught me, and something that's been reinforced by Andrew. Meeting Andrew was not a coincidence; it was some sort of fate, or destiny, because without him, I wouldn't be as close to my own destiny as I am now. I breathe out slowly. "I just have this sort of gut feeling, Andrew," I say quietly. "I feel like he's one of us. Maybe it's the charm or my own instincts, but I don't think this is just nothing."

He sighs and smiles bitterly; he's the one who truly taught me to follow my instincts, and it's backfiring on him a bit now. "Maren, we can't just up and go to Kenya. It's not that simple."

"Why not?" I ask him. "Why can't we?"

He chuckles emptily. "For one thing, you don't have a true identity. You don't have a passport to get on a plane."

I frown. Whenever Katarina and I moved that way, she simply forged everything. But I guess Andrew, being a law-abiding human, isn't exactly skilled in the art of fraud.

"But Andrew..." I whine. "We have to do something. We have to make a move. We can't go on like this forever."

"What if we get to Kenya and he's not a Garde?" Andrew proposes.

"Then we've lost nothing," I tell him. "We come back and we keep looking. But if it is him, we have to get to him before the Mogs do. This article has been out for days now, it's on the Mogs' radar for sure. We have to do something."

Andrew sighs and considers it for a moment as he sits there. My eyes are pleading, and he sighs again. "We'll talk about it in the morning," he says. "We'll figure out what to do. But for now, let's just find somewhere to spend the night. Okay?"

"Okay." I agree. It's reasonable enough, and I'll have to accept it for now. He stands up and we head out. He wraps his arm around me.

I know Andrew does everything because he cares about me. But I just hope nothing goes wrong...

...

I'm tossing and turning in the hotel room bed. It's dark, and Andrew is already sound asleep, but I'm having trouble. My mind is still racing with thoughts, thoughts of the war, of Lorien, of my past, and now my future.

Where are the others? Where are Numbers Three, Four, and Five, the Numbers that precede me and are therefore closer to death than I am? Is Three in hiding, trying to avoid his or her fate? Or are the others looking for the Garde too, trying to reunite? Maybe that's why I'm getting this feeling, this urgency of needing to follow my destiny in the war. Maybe the charm is finally trying to pull us together, and maybe we're all looking. It excites me and terrifies me all the same.

And what about Andrew? It's finally starting to dawn on me that I can't stay with him forever, and the thought makes a knot form in my stomach. I'm going to have to leave him eventually. He had a life before me, and he needs to get back to that. He already nearly died because of me once; I'm not going to let that happen again. The only way he's ever going to be safe again is if he's not near me anymore. The thought breaks my heart, and despite its inevitability, it's something I'm trying not to think about it.

I can understand a lot of my past at this point. My past with Katarina, and now with Andrew, only remembrance of Lorien truly missing from the puzzle. But what does my future look like now? I believe I'll be okay no matter what happens. I just wish it wasn't so gray, so hard to discern...

I'm finally tiring myself out with my thoughts and falling slowly into sleep when I'm ripped out of it by searing pain in my ankle. I shoot to a sitting position and scream in pain, reaching to clutch my ankle, which is now glowing.

Just like that, in my moment of uncertainty and lowering my guard to my thoughts, another Garde has died.

My third scar has come.


	32. Chapter 32

Andrew wakes up quickly to my screaming and rushes over to the bed as I clutch my ankle. I moan in pain.

"Maren, Maren, what's wrong?" Andrew asks feverishly, now wide awake and looking at me with wide, worried eyes.

"M-M-My scar!" I tell him, my voice shaking with the pain. I remove my hands to let him see, my arms trembling.

The light as my scar burns lights up his shocked face, and his eyes grow even wider. "Oh my gosh..." he murmurs. He shoots to his feet and runs to the bathroom, bringing back a cold wash cloth moments later. He quickly presses it to my ankle. I shudder with some relief; it's minimal compared to the burning. but some of the searing is soothed. There's a ringing in my ears as the situation takes hold.

"Maren!" Andrew says. "Maren, focus on me!" He tilts my chin up so I can look at him, and I try to focus on his words, but the pain is all encompassing, preventing me from focusing on pretty much anything. His face looks panicked.

Andrew clutches my arm, trying to keep me with him. He presses the cold cloth harder onto my ankle, and I moan in relief as the cool cloth soothes the burn. Soon enough, the pain starts to die down to a dull throb and the glow fades and ceases. I start to regain myself.

"Are you okay?" Andrews asks quickly, dabbing my searing scar and the sweat from my forehead.

"Yeah," I say absently. "I...I'm okay..."

We both stare grimly at my new scar. Another Garde has died.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" he asks me quietly.

I nod numbly. "There are only six of us left now."

He swallows hard. "Do you think...?"

He doesn't need to finish. I know what he's going to say. It was the boy in Kenya. He fell on the Mogs' radar, and now he's dead. He was Number Three. I nod.

Andrew's expression slowly turns to one of guilt. "I...I'm sorry, Maren," he says quietly. "You were right. He was one of you. I should have listened..."

I shake my head. "You were right too, Andrew," I say quietly. "Picking up everything and going to Kenya on a hunch like that is no small feat. You've already done so much for me...I shouldn't just expect you to drop everything and fly halfway around the world." I was thinking about this as I lie awake, thinking about Andrew and all he's done for me. Part of me was foolish to expect that of him so readily. I was so caught up in the idea of finding another like me that I neglected how he felt about it or what it would mean for him.

"But you were right," Andrew replies weakly. "If we had just gone, maybe he wouldn't be..." He trails off.

I shake my head again. "I don't know if we could have done much. The Mogs already had him on their radar. Chances are, I would be captured and you would be dead too. Maybe it's better that we didn't."

Andrew sighs. He can't think of what else to say. "I'm so sorry..." he says, his voice despairingly earnest.

"I forgive you." I can't say it's okay that we lost another Loric. But I forgive Andrew for his hesitancy to go, because I shouldn't have expected anything else. "I'm sorry too."

Andrew wraps his arm around me and kisses my head. "Get some sleep," he says quietly. "We'll figure out our next move in the morning."

"Okay..." I say hollowly, laying back down in bed as he goes back to his. But I already know my next move.

I have to go off on my own. I have to leave Andrew.

...

The next morning, I wake up to Andrew bringing me tea.

"Good morning," he says, handing me a saucer as I sit up in bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. My scar still hurts, but it's not too bad." I pull it out from the covers and finally take a proper look at it. The scar is definitely fresh, the skin raw and red compared to my other two well worn scars. Number Three's Loric symbol is ablaze on my ankle and the other six Garde.

"That doesn't look too good," he says. He insists on putting antiseptic on it and bandaging it, so as he does, I try to think of a way to tell him the heart wrenching news that I have to leave him behind. I sip my tea anxiously as he finishes up.

"Now that that's taken care of," he muses, rubbing his hands together and standing back up. "Let's talk about what we're going to do next."

I swallow hard and look down, hardly able to meet his gaze. My heart sinks.

Andrew sees this instantly. "What's the matter?" he asks, a worried edge to his voice.

I sigh out shakily and continue staring at my lap. I wring my hands on my cup of tea.

"Andrew...I...I think it would be best if...if I went off...on my own," I finally manage, my voice trembling.

There's a long silence. When I look up, Andrew is frowning, his expression almost hurt. "You...you want to leave me?" he asks disbelievingly.

"No," I reply instantly. "I don't want to leave you. But...it's the only way that you'll be safe."

Andrew sighs, as if he doesn't want to hear this. "Maren, I don't care about being safe. I care about being with you and taking care of you."

"Yes, but I care about you being safe!" I exclaim to him. Andrew looks taken aback for a moment by my outburst and I sigh shakily again, trying to keep my cool. I look up at him again, tears brimming my eyes. "Andrew, I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. I can barely live with myself knowing what happened to Katarina and knowing it was my fault."

He looks at me with pity. "Maren, it wasn't your-"

"No, Andrew, listen to me," I cut him off. "You almost died because of me. I led you straight into a death trap." I shake my head. "It opened my eyes that day. I was so happy to have you with me and I was so ready to fight in the war that I forgot about the consequences. You're not safe with me, Andrew. I can't let anything happen to you."

"And I can't let anything happen to you," he replies, his voice strained. "You're too precious for that, Maren. If I'm not there to look after you, then who will?"

"I'll look after myself," I tell him quietly. "You taught me how to, and I did for a while anyway. I'll somehow be okay." I look down, shaking my head ever so slightly. "But I can't go on with you like this, Andrew. I can't risk you getting hurt again. We're in more danger than ever now that another Garde has perished." I look at him again finally and the tears that were threatening finally stream down my cheeks. "I'd rather say goodbye to you now and leave you knowing you'll be safe than have to say goodbye the way I almost did in Castle."

Andrew looks at me, his face so sad. "I can't just leave you behind, Maren," he says quietly.

More tears run down my cheeks. "I can't either," I whisper. "But I know that I have to."

"There has to be another way," Andrew says.

I shake my head sadly. "I wish there was," I whisper. "But this is the only way I know you'll be safe. This is the only way I know I can live it myself." I look at him, my face anguished but my eyes pleading. I've thought a lot about this, despite how much it hurts my heart. It's the only way I can get through this. Andrew is the only thing in this world that I love, and therefore, he is my weakness. I won't be able too recover if he dies, and I saw the brink of that when he almost did. This is the only way.

Andrew stares at me for a long time before he speaks, and I believe he finally understands when he does. "You're sure?" he aks my, his voice a hoarse, strained whisper. I nod.

He nods too, stiff and in disbelief. "Okay." He comes towards me and wraps his arms around me.

I break down into tears.

...

Andrew and I agreed that we would part tomorrow, and we're spending our last night camping together, a classic way that we'll both enjoy and remember. The sun has set, and we're laying on the ground, looking up at the stars. We talk about the memories that we have, our life together. We talk about everything we want to keep in our hearts.

"Remember the first time we went on a nature walk?" Andrew asks me.

I nod. "Yeah. You didn't know about me then, and I was still really timid with you and didn't want to go," I recall.

He chuckles and nods. "Yeah. I was hoping you would loosen up and feel little more calmer out there, but I think I was wrong, at least at the time. I was so afraid you'd run away, so _I _was uptight."

"You kept such a close eye on me that I couldn't." I smile a little bit. "It did make me feel a little bit better, though," I tell him quietly. "Katarina didn't like me being out in the woods or anything because she always worried I wouldn't come back. Even with you with me, it was a nice change of pace."

I see Andrew smile gently as we stare up at the stars. "I'm glad it helped a little, then."

"It obviously did something," I tease. "Look where we are today." We couldn't be closer. He sighs contently and nods.

"Remember the first time I showed you my powers?" I ask him. "You were so surprised. I thought your eyes were going to pop out of your head."

"Can you blame me?" he asks with a chuckle. "It was amazing. I never imagined anything like that could truly be possible, but you were living proof. You were like a superhero come to life for me."

I look up at him. A superhero come to life... "Really?" I ask quietly.

He nods. "Of course," he says quietly. "And besides...you really are a superhero. You're going to save the world, Maren."

I'm quiet for a moment. "You think so"?" I ask quietly.

He nods with certainty. "I know so. I believe in you more than anything else," he says. "My mother didn't die in vain for you guys. She believed in you just like I do. I know you're going to save the world, Maren. And I hope I'm the first one you tell when you do."

My heart is touched when he says this. He really, truly believes in me. That confidence is something I'm never going to forget, something I'm going to carry with me. Slowly, I reach out and take Andrew's hand.

"You will be the first to know," I say quietly, "because you're my hero."

Andrew looks over at me, his kind face illuminated by the stars. "You mean that?" he asks.

I nod with no doubt. "I mean that more than anything."

He squeezes my hand gently. "I love you, Maren."

"I love you too, Andrew."

We'll be okay.

I'll be okay.


	33. Chapter 33

Andrew has driven me to a small town with a train station, where he'll see me off and we'll finally separate. After our night of camping, we've hardly spoken, both so caught up in our emotions that it's hard to find something to say. This will be the hardest thing I ever do.

On our way to the train station, Andrew speaks. "Are you okay, Maren?" he asks me quietly.

I shake my head in honesty, my heart hurting and my body stiff with numbness. "No," I whisper. "But I know I'll have to be."

"You can always change your mind," he tells me. I know he only keeps bringing this up because he wants me to change my mind. He doesn't want to leave me anymore than I want to leave him.

Still, as painful as it is, I shake my head. "No, I can't," I say quietly. "This is the only way, Andrew. This is the only way you'll be safe."

"But we'll be apart from each other," he says his voice almost labored, "and that'll just make everything harder."

I nod in agreement. "It will at first," I reply. "But we'll both learn to be okay. And this way, we know that there's always a chance of finding my way back home." Because otherwise, we'd be together until the day one of us dies. And that's a much harder goodbye than this will ever be. "I'd rather say goodbye with the possibility of saying hello again."

Andrew nods, though strained. We've talked about this, talked ourselves in and out of it countless times. But we both know that this way, no matter how painful it may seem, will still be less painful than the alternatives. This way, we still have hope for each other.

We're quiet until we get to the train station. When we do, we park the truck and see that the next train out leaves in ten minutes. That should leave us enough time to say our proper goodbyes.

When we get out of the truck, me for the last time, Andrew retrieves something from the back. As we walk towards the station, I see that it's my backpack. It's the original backpack that I had with me when Andrew found me shy of three years ago. He smiles softly and slowly presents it to me.

"Why do you still have this?" I ask him quietly, staring at the bag.

"You had it when I found you," he says quietly. "I thought it would only be fitting if I saw you off with it too." I take the bag in my hands. "Go on and look inside," he tells me.

I do as he says, slowly opening it. Inside, there's a few things. There's my journal the I've been working on for a while now. There's the first book that he ever gave to me and let me read inside. There's my birthday card, and tucked inside of it, is the Polaroid picture of us together. There's a few packages of food, a thermos full of water, and a change of clothes for me. And lastly, tucked in the inside pocket is two hundred dollars in cash and the key to Andrew's house.

I look up at Andrew, almost speechless. He smiles, though his face is pained. "I figured that would be enough to keep you going for a while. And if it's not..." He pats the spot to the key. "You know where to find me."

I smiles, my eyes brimming with tears. I slowly wrap my arms around him. "Thank you, Andrew..."

I clutch my backpack to my chest as Andrew goes and buys my train ticket. As we do, the reality of this really hits me. I'm leaving Andrew. I'm going to be off on my own again, finding the other Garde and fighting in the war, the dangerous life that I've been out of for so long. But now I'm ready. I'm a fierce and determined warrior. I will be okay.

Andrew presses the train ticket in my hand and I clutch it tightly. We walk to the boarding area and face each other. I secure my backpack on my back.

"So I guess this is it," Andrew says quietly, looking at me softly, the same soft expression that I met him with.

I shake my head. "This isn't it. We'll see each other again someday. I know we will."

Andrew smiles, but the smile is sad. "Yeah, I know we will." He steps forward and embraces me tightly, and it's at this point that I start to cry, my sadness just letting loose.

"I'm going to miss you so much," I say through my cries into his shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you too, sweetheart," he replies quietly. He's not crying, but I can hear him trying to hold it back. He's trying to be strong for me. "It's been a long time since I've cared for someone as much as I've cared for you. You're my family. You always will be."

I release a shuddering sigh. "You're the closest thing I've ever had to a family," I whisper. "You are my family. You...You're my best friend." Since Katarina's death, I forgot what it was like to be loved, and to have someone understand you. Andrew filled that hole in my heart, and he always will. I will never let that go.

"You always have a home with me," Andrew whispers back. "Always. You know that, don't you?"

I nod. "I do. Thank you for giving that to me. Thank you for everything you've done for me," I reply to him. "I can never pay you back for that. It's because of you that I'm ready for this. Thank you so much..."

He kisses the top of my head and rubs my back as we still embrace. "It was all my pleasure, Maren. I'd do it all again for you. All of it."

"You would?" I ask, looking up at him.

He looks at me with certainty, his smile still sad, as he nods. "Yeah. I really would." He strokes back my hair gently, an affectionate gesture. "Are you sure you're going to be okay, kiddo?" he asks me.

I nod, my own certainty there. "I will be, thanks to do. You taught me everything I need to know to survive. Between you and Katarina, I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

He chuckles airily. I can't stand the sadness on his face. "I'm so proud of you, Maren. I'm so proud of the young woman and the warrior that you've grown up to be. And I'm so glad I've had the privilege of watching you grow."

"I couldn't have done it without you," I reply, certain of that. "I wouldn't be the warrior that I am without you."

Andrew holds me a little tighter. "I love you so much, Maren..." he says.

"I love you too, Andrew."

They announce that it's time to board the train. My heart contracts. It's time.

"This isn't goodbye," Andrew whispers. "This is see you soon. Because I know you'll one day find your way back home."

I nod in agreement. "See you soon," I whisper back, my voice pained beyond measure. "I can't wait to come home again."

He finally releases me, and I see that tears now stream his cheeks. He squeezes my hand one last time. "Be careful," he says quietly. "I love you, Maren."

"I love you too," I reply. With one last pang of the heart and look in his kind eyes, he releases my hand and I go towards the train. Letting go and turning away is by far the hardest thing I've ever done.

Just as I step onto the train, I hear Andrew's voice behind me. "And Maren?" I turn back to look.

Andrew is grinning at me. "Save the world," he says.

I slowly smile back at him despite the hurt in my heart. "I will," I tell him. "And you'll be the first to know when I do." He smiles a bit more, and with that, I turn and walk on the train.

I sit in a seat by myself and look out the window. Andrew is still standing there, watching me as I go. He's the same Andrew that I've always known, the same kind Andrew that's always cared for me. My heart wrenches as the train starts moving, and I wave to him as it goes. He waves back to me, smiling for my sake, and I keep my eyes on him until he's out of sight. My Andrew...my family...

Once he is, I break down into tears.

...

I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what my future looks like. But for once, I'm certain of my past. I'm certain of who I am now.

They say that we are products of our experience, and I know that nothing is more true. I am who I am today because of Andrew. I am determined, resilient, and fiercely ready for anything life throws at me. These are things that I learned from Katarina, things that I've learned from Andrew, and things that I have come to on my own, and they've all shaped me into the person that I am.

I will never forget Andrew. I will never forget our life together, all of the memories we shared, and the family that he was to me. And I know I'll never forget it because, even though he is now part of my past, I still have hope that he will be part of my future. And not only that, Andrew is a part of me now, and he always will be.

He was my family when I had none, my protector when I was vulnerable, my healer when I was sick, and my home when I needed one. I know I will always feel at home with him. I know that I will always have somewhere to go, someone who wants me in the world. And that will be enough to sustain me through all of this.

Leaving Andrew is by far the hardest thing I have ever done, but I have hope that I will see him again someday. I have something to fight for now, something to go back to. And that's something I never could have said before.

Even though I'm sad, I know I will make it through. Andrew taught me to be strong, and we're going to be strong for each other.

I don't know what the future holds. I'm going to do my best, though. I will fight in this war and I will find the Garde. But for now, nothing is certain.

Nothing in my life has ever been certain. But Andrew is the one thing I'm certain of now. And because of that, we'll be okay.

He'll be okay.

I'll be okay.

...

**Well, my friends, this is the end. It has been so wonderful writing this story, and I really hope you've enjoyed it all the way through. I'm honestly really sad that I'm finished with it, as this story is so meaningful to me and I've loved writing it and creating it. :') **

**Thank you so much for reading, and for your support of my writing. You are all awesome people, and I'm very thankful for all of you. :) **

**One last time, for the sake that I can't stress it enough, thank you so much. :')**

**~Colemet Milinia **


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